


The white serpent

by Goddess_of_the_arena



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Gods of the Arena
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Swearing, complete work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 63,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22130770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goddess_of_the_arena/pseuds/Goddess_of_the_arena
Summary: Kneeling before the red serpent will bring great and unfortunate things. Underestimating the white serpent is even more dangerous...And those who oppose her will find it out the hard way.
Relationships: Ashur/Original female Character
Comments: 78
Kudos: 23





	1. Enter the serpents

**Author's Note:**

> Author note: Welcome to my very first Spartacus fanfic, ladies and gentlemen! The protagonist is an original character of my creation, Flaminia of the House of Lutatius. I hope you’ll enjoy the reading :-)
> 
> Since the series doesn’t give us an exact date for when the recruits arrived at the ludus, I’m making it up and placing it at 8 February. I also altered the timeline to make Gaia arrive in Capua sooner than canon.

Quintus Lentulus Batiatus was walking through the market with his old friend, Marcus Decius Solonius, when a cheerful female voice called out to him. “Quintus!”. He turned with a wide smile, having recognized the voice, “Flaminia! Jupiter’s cock, what joy to see you!”, he exclaimed, taking the woman up in a hug, “How are you? And your parents?”.

Flaminia of House Lutatius was the only daughter of a wealthy weapon merchant and Batiatus’ long-time friend, an attractive young woman with long brown hair, deep brown eyes and a slender, but generously curved body, who always dressed in white. As usual, she was accompanied by her bodyguard Kerovas, a seven-feet-tall tower of a man with dark skin, close-cropped black hair, eyes that burned like fire and such impressive muscles that he could give most gladiators a run for their money.

Batiatus’ and Flaminia’s families had a strong bond, dating back to the time when his grandfather founded the ludus and her great-grandfather supplied his gladiators with high-quality weapons. Both the commercial connection and the friendship had been passed from one generation onto the next over time, so that now Flaminia’s father Janus was best friends with Quintus Batiatus and the latter loved the former’s child nearly as though she were his own daughter.

For a brief period of time, Titus, Quintus’ father, had even considered arranging a combined marriage to strengthen the bond, but unfortunately for him, his son had met Lucretia and fallen in love with her, taking her as his wife.

As for Flaminia, she wasn’t married and was still a virgin, because, as Janus always told her, ‘unspoiled woman has greater value as a wife and virginity is highly appreciated dowry for husband’. That was one of the reasons why Kerovas was constantly by her side, since his task was to make sure she remained intact in _every_ sense of the word.

“I’m glad to see you too, my friend, it’s good to be in Capua again. Parents are fine, they are in still in Rome for business”, she smiled back and turned to Solonius, her cheerfulness fading a fraction, “Ah, good Solonius, pleasure to meet you as well. I see you’re still by Quintus’ side”. He bowed, kissing her hand, “Flaminia, you are more beautiful every time eyes fall upon you”.

She laughed softly, “Oh, you shameless flatterer. How has life been treating you since last meeting? I trust Lucretia is fine?”. Batiatus nodded, “She is and I’m sure she will be overjoyed to see you. She’s home with Gaia at moment”. Her eyebrows rose with surprise, “Gaia? I thought she was still in Rome, mourning over her husband’s death”.

He rolled his eyes, “Mourning? Tsk! That cock-sucking, money-grabbing whore was more than happy to bury him”. “And no doubt she’s already looking for new fat coin purse to drain. So, what are you looking for today? Some quality weapons for the gladiators, maybe? Father has just restocked the stall”.

He shook his head, “Ah, apologies, dearest, but I’m looking for some new recruits for ludus”. She arched an eyebrow, “Really? I thought that Oenomaus and Gannicus would be enough to impress the crowd and grant you place in important games”. He sighed, “Would Jupiter listen to you! But no, unfortunately the Gods seem to enjoy pissing down on me at every turn: I’m still stuck with lesser matches”.

Flaminia bit her lower lip, “That’s bad news. Shall I come with you? Maybe I can help you find someone worthy of attention”, she proposed, draping her scarf around her head to hide her face, since she didn’t want people to gossip about her visit to the slave market.

“Of course, your company would be most welcome”, he nodded, as they walked side by side to the square where slaves were sold, “And what about your scandalous pastime? Still indulging in it with the satelles here?”, he added, shooting a quick glance at Kerovas, who didn’t even blink. Flaminia, however, blushed and shot nervous glances around, afraid that they could be overheard, “Lower your voice! And yes, I still train with him every time I have chance to do so”.

Solonius frowned disapprovingly, “It’s not appropriate for a free woman to fight like man”. “I know, but I love it too much. You can’t understand what it means to feel the weight of the sword in my hand, to grip the handle and strike and feint, to feel both arm and body shivering from the force of the blow!”, she let out a dreamy sigh, “If only I were born a man, then I could have become a soldier, or a gladiator, even.

Just imagine, me on the sand, my sword cutting off the head of my opponent and the crowd chanting my name over and over, roaring with delight at victory…”, she trailed off and yelped, as her bodyguard quickly took her up and put her down a few steps forward.

Batiatus laughed, “You should come down from the clouds, friend! You were so absorbed in your dreams, that you nearly tripped on that pile of shit”, he added, pointing to a steaming mass in the middle of the street. “Ew! Gratitude, Kerovas”, she said, giving her protector a warm smile, which he returned. “My pleasure, domina”. “Ah, here we are, right in time”, Batiatus announced as they entered the small square.

The three Romans watched with interest as the slave master pushed eight men in chains up the short staircase and onto the scaffold and Flaminia’s eyes were immediately drawn to one of them in particular, a six-feet-tall Syrian who had a lean and toned build, nearly-shaved black hair and a short beard with one small braid.

The slave master pointed to each man in turn, telling the crowd their names, where they were abducted from and about their qualities as fighters, but she didn’t care about the others, she only had eyes for him, the one named Ashur. Even if his body seemed made more for stealth and agility than for brute strength, he had the potential to become a good fighter and besides, there was something in his posture and in the way he looked around himself that spoke of self-confidence and of a sharp, cunning intelligence.

She was of half a mind to buy him for herself, but Batiatus was faster. “I think these eight will be perfect as recruits. What do you think, domina dearest?”. “Well…”, she hesitated, but her loyalty towards her friend prevailed over her own desire, “I’m not sure about the others, but at least two of them seem good enough to survive training”, she admitted, “The Syrians may live long enough to earn the Mark.

As for the remaining six…Well, it’s your pecunia. And even if they don’t earn the Mark, maybe they can serve as house slaves”. “Or be sent to the mines, that would yield some denarii as well”, Batiatus replied. “True”, she tried to maintain an indifferent tone, but her lips pursed with distaste, “Buy them all, then”.

He purchased the whole lot and she couldn’t suppress a sigh of mixed envy and frustration, which Solonius caught immediately. “Seems like you were interested in purchasing a slave yourself, am I right?”, he asked her with a smirk, “Someone to keep you company in your villa, maybe?”. “I am merely tired from long journey back to our beloved Capua”, she replied, her tone polite even as her eyes glared daggers at him from beneath her long lashes.

“Then you must come to my house and enjoy hospitality and wine”, Batiatus said, offering her his hand with a playful bow, “Allow me to escort you, beautiful domina”. Flaminia giggled and took his hand, “With pleasure, my friend. Good Solonius, it has been a joy to meet you. I hope to see you again soon”, she lied, inwardly praying the Gods that he would meet his end soon. “So do I, Flaminia”, he replied with a courteous nod, “Batiatus, see you tomorrow”.

“Of course”, the younger lanista waved and led the woman and her bodyguard through the crowded streets. “Being back home is great relief”, she sighed happily as she took in the familiar surroundings, “Rome is nice place, but no place is like Capua”. “Without you, this city is not the same”, he assured her, “Even games seem boring, if you’re not by my side in row, cheering on my titans”.

“When we’re at home, can I watch the gladiators training?”. “I knew you would ask!”, Batiatus laughed, “And yes. Follow me, dearest”. They walked inside the villa and Melitta was quick to approach them. “Welcome back, dominus. Domina Flaminia, welcome”. “Melitta, such joy to see you! I missed you”, the young Roman woman smiled affectionately at the slave, hugging her, “How are you?”. “I’m fine, domina, gratitude”.

“And what of your husband, good Oenomaus? I trust he has recovered from the fight against Teokoles, I long to see him in the arena once more”. The other woman’s smile faltered, “He has recovered, but he still hasn’t been allowed to fight again”. “Oh, that’s shame. Quintus, why are you keeping him from the arena? He’s great gladiator, he deserves to be on the sand again”.

“I have a good reason for it, trust me”, he replied, then turned to Melitta, “Where are my wife and Gaia?”. “They...”, she hesitated, “They are bathing, dominus. Shall I call them?”. “No, let them have fun. Flaminia wants to witness training and I won’t delay her pleasure longer than necessary”. “Dominus”, she bowed and went back to the bathroom, while Batiatus led his friend to the balcony which faced directly on the ludus.

Flaminia bent forward, her eyes shining as she observed the gladiators exchanging blows under the Sun, “This is wonderful”, she sighed, a dreamy smile on her lips and he let out a laugh. “You have the same look on your face as the first time we stood here, back when my father was in charge of the ludus”.

“Ah, I remember that day well: Titus took me up in his arms, so that I could better see his titans, as I was too small to see above railing”, her gaze softened, “It was love at first sight. I would give anything to be in your place...But more in theirs”. “Not to be in their **bed**?”, a teasing female voice came from the room and Flaminia rolled her eyes with an amused chuckle as she turned around. “Gaia! Such pleasant surprise to meet you here, of all places”.

Gaia shot her a sultry smile, “Oh, Flaminia, pleasure is mine”, she purred, kissing her on the cheek and trying to kiss her on the lips as well, but the younger woman took a step back. “Friend, you know I’m not allowed”.

Gaia arched an eyebrow, “Still holding onto virginity, I see. It’s a shame you can’t indulge in the delights of flesh…Especially since you have this stunning specimen of male at disposal”, she added, eyeing Kerovas up and down appreciatively, while he blatantly ignored her.

“I can’t disobey father. And stop making eyes at Kerovas already, he’s not on the market anymore”, Flaminia added, more sharply than she would have wanted to, then smiled warmly at her host, “Lucretia, how are you?”.

“Better, now that I see you”, the matrona said, “How are your parents?”. “They’re fine, gratitude. They have business to take care of in Rome, but send their fondest regards”. “Come and join us for a cup of fresh wine”. “Gratitude, but I prefer to stay here and admire Quintus’ titans at work”.

She shot a look at the gladiators and grimaced, “Those filthy slaves? I will never understand your fascination with them”. “It’s not them, but the fight, danger and thrill of the kill that set my blood on fire. If only I could be on sand like them…”. “Flaminia! A woman shouldn’t talk like that!”. “I didn’t ask the Gods to be born woman”.

Gaia chuckled, her eyes half-lidded like those of a sly cat, “Being a member of female sex brings many benefits, dear”. “But it deprives me of pleasure to wield gladius in combat”. “So stubborn…But you will come to understand, sooner or later”. “If you say so”, Flaminia shrugged, returning her attention to the courtyard beneath the balcony.

“You are planning to stay for a while, I hope?”, Batitatus asked her, “The games for the Lupercalia will take place next week and...”. “I would never lose them!”, she enthusiastically cut him off, “I’ll be in the front raw to enjoy the show”, she added, her thoughts drifting to the Syrian slave named Ashur and a thrill ran through her at the mental image of him in the arena, fighting to the death against another gladiator and slashing his opponent’s throat open, “I can’t wait for that day to come”.

8888888888888888

**_ Lupercalia _ ** _ : _ _they were celebrations in honor of Faunus Lupercus, an incarnation of Faunus (Pan) as the patron of shepherds, who protected the flock from the wolves_ _. They were celebrated on 15 February._

**_ Satelles: _ ** _the Latin word for ‘bodyguard’._


	2. A meeting of like minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flaminia and Ashur meet for the first time. Nothing will be the same anymore in their lives...And in the lives of everyone else around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Laria Arista for leaving me a comment and the three unnamed guests who left me kudos. You are the reason why there is a chapter two.

Ten days later, Flaminia, along with Kerovas, visited Batiatus and as she sat down before the lanista, she seemed nervous. “So, dearest, what did you want to talk about? Melitta said you have request to make of me”. “Well, yes, I do. I wanted to ask you if I could…”, she trailed off, biting her lower lip. “Come on, speak your mind, you know I’m always willing to listen to your lovely voice”.

“I would like to patronize one of the recruits. You know, pay for food, water and of course, since it’s father equipping ludus, weapons for that specific man would be for free. I’m not a lanista, so this is the only way I can have a gladiator fighting on the sand for me…I mean, for honor of my house as well as yours”. Batiatus thought about it for a moment, then nodded, “Well, after all, why not? All right, you can patronize a recruit. Come to the balcony, so you can choose him”.

“Actually, I already have one in mind, but before making the choice officially, I want to test for myself how well he handles his gladius”. He grinned, “If these words were coming from the mouth of any other woman, I would take it she wanted to fuck him”, he commented and Flaminia laughed and gave him a playful shove.

“Oh, shut up! Take me to the ludus, but don’t tell anyone who I am and pretend I’m rebellious slave who needs to be put in place with hard training. You may use my real name, they don’t know House of Lutatius, do they?”. “No, they don’t. But are you sure this is wise? Sparring with a man…”. “I’ve been training with Kerovas nearly every single day since we were children and he’s much stronger than even best gladiators. The Syrian could never be more dangerous than he is”.

He hesitated, but they both knew he had always been incapable of denying her anything, “So be it. Follow me-wait, Syrian?”. “Yes, the one named Ashur. I think he would make fine gladiator and…There’s something about him, I don’t know how to explain it, but I have a feeling that his mind may be sharper than any blade”.

“He’s just a slave”. “That doesn’t necessarily mean he is a moron”, she replied, “Kerovas is a slave as well, but he’s got sharpest mind I’ve ever found in a man and he’s been helping father with business since he was a lad. That’s why we’re doing so well. And being so good with numbers, he also helps me with…Other incomes”, she added with a grin.

He arched an eyebrow, “Other incomes? Please tell me you’re not talking about gambling wages”. “Why not? You bet on fights as well”. “Yes, but it’s different, I’m a man!”. “Well, I don’t place bets personally, Kerovas does it for me”. “That doesn’t really make difference”.

Her grin turned sly, “Trust me, it does: people are less inclined to swindle him than they would be if they were dealing with me. I wonder why?”, she added, sharing an amused look with her protector, who smirked. “I have no idea, domina. Maybe it’s because of my negotiating skills”, he replied and they shared a laugh.

“Janus doesn’t know about it, I hope?”, Batiatus asked her, worried. “Of course not! Parents know nothing of my wages, they would never approve of them, even if they earned me a lot of coin, which was used to further our business”. “Good. And you only bet on official fights, don’t you?”. “Obviously”, she curled up her nose, “The Pits are not place I would **ever** set foot in, unless there was very good reason to”. He sighed, relieved, “That is good news. Come”.

“I need to change clothes first: if they see me with this fine dress, they will never believe I’m slave”, she said, “Can I use that room?”. “Of course”. She slipped into the side room and emerged from it after a couple of minutes, her hair tied in a simple braid, her luxurious white dress replaced with a short blue tunic and her jewels gone, “Now I’m ready”.

Batiatus eyed her smooth fair skin and for a fleeting moment, his blood boiled with desire, but then he shook himself, “Isn’t that too revealing?”. “That’s normal clothing for house slaves, she wears it too”, Flaminia replied, gesturing towards Melitta. “Yes, but...”. “Shall we go?”, she asked, eager to finally step into the ludus for the first time, after years of being forced to content herself with looking from afar. “All right”.

When they stepped onto the sand, all the gladiators stopped and stood on attention, bowing to their dominus, though many of them shot curious looks at both the woman by his side and the man behind her. “This is Flaminia”, Batiatus said, gesturing towards the woman, “She was sent here because her Domina is displeased with her aggressive behavior and thinks a day of training in the ludus may rid her of it”.

Flaminia kept her head high, she had to play the part of a defiant slave after all. Though to be honest, she wouldn’t have been able to play ‘meek and submissive’ if her life depended on it, proud and stubborn as she was.

“She will train with you”, Batiatus announced and the gladiators exchanged glances, some puzzled, some annoyed and some even seemed strangely pleased by the news. Ulpius, who had the role of doctore in Batiatus’ ludus, intervened, “Dominus, she is a woman. Ludus is no place for women, unless they are whores to please the gladiators”.

The master’s lips twisted with rage, “ **I** am fucking dominus!”, he yelled, incensed, “ **I** give fucking orders and **you** fucking obey! She will train in fucking ludus all fucking day and that is it!”. The other man made a face, clearly disapproving of his dominus’ decision, but nodded curtly nonetheless, “Dominus”.

“Go and join the recruits”, Batiatus ordered the woman and she squared her shoulders. “Dominus”, she said, then walked straight towards the Syrians and when she was in front of them, she smiled, “I am Flaminia. Pleasure to make your acquaintance”. Ashur smiled friendly back and gave her a courteous nod, “Pleasure is mine. My name is Ashur and he is Dagan”, he said, revealing a smooth, low and velvety voice that sent a pleasant warm tingle through her.

Dagan’s eyes roamed hungrily over her slender, but well-curved form, “ _Nice bitch in heat. I’d like to feel those full lips on my cock, ram it in her ass and fuck her senseless_ ”, he commented in his native language. Disgust and anger flashed on Ashur’s face for the briefest of moments, but he quickly composed himself, “Uh, Dagan says that it’s great privilege to lay eyes upon such beauty”, he lied, shooting a withering glare to his countryman.

“Oh. Gratitude, Dagan”, the woman said, but the lecherous smirk on Dagan’s lips made her suspect that something was ‘lost’ in translation, “What shall I do?”. As if he had heard her, Ulpius shouted, “Recruits, stop sparring and lift slates. You too, new one”, he added, pointing with his whip at the young woman. At that, Batiatus opened his mouth to protest, but Flaminia shot him a warning glance and shook her head slightly: no matter how difficult it could be, her pride would not allow her to accept his help.

Her original plan was to grab a wooden gladius, a parma and spar with her chosen recruit, not to go through the full training, but doctore had challenged her, so she would do it, even if she knew she’d be a wreck before the day was over. Backing out of it would mean showing weakness and as Quintus had once told her, ‘showing weakness is presenting ass to enemies for fucking’.

Indus intervened, “But doctore, slates are too heavy for a woman!”. “She is recruit now, like all of you, so she will do what you do. Now shut your fucking mouth!”, the older man concluded, threateningly making his whip snap on the sand. She smiled at the Macedon, “Gratitude for your care, but doctore is right”. He bit his lower lip, uncertain, “Are you sure?”.

“I am”, she approached the nearest slate and grabbed the handles, then took a deep breath and pulled. It was heavy as Hell, her back ached as though someone was beating her with a club, but she pulled harder, until she lifted it off the sand a couple of inches. At her side, Ashur was watching her with worried eyes, as he lifted his own slate, “It’s too heavy, let go”. “No”, she hissed through gritted teeth, pulling with all of her strength.

Kerovas’ fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles paled, as he watched the struggle of the girl he loved like a little sister from the border of the ludus, but he kept silent, knowing all too well how stubborn she was and how angry she would be if he tried to help her out. All he could do was to let her train and be ready with some balm to soothe her aching muscles at the end of the day, as he always did after their sparring sessions.

He glared at Ulpius, lips curling with hatred: it was clear that the whip-carrying man was pissed off at having a woman step on the sand he considered as sacred ground, so he was giving her a hard time out of spite, since he couldn’t take it out on his dominus. Fucking bastard. “Dominus?”, Kerovas turned to Batiatus, “May I speak?”. “Yes”.

“I would have words with doctore this evening”, he said, struggling to keep his tone normal. “Fine. But try not to injury him too much, I need him healthy to train the gladiators”, Batiatus replied, a cruel grin curving his mouth, “And worry not, he will not be doctore for long: I already have replacement in mind”.

“Gratitude, dominus”, the younger man sighed, “My job is to protect her, but I can’t always protect her from herself”. The Roman gave him a comforting pat on the arm, “You do the best you can, but she is adult now. Only Janus could avoid this and he’s not here. Worry not, she will be fine, she is strong woman. Come, we’ll keep eyes on her from balcony”. “Dominus”.

They turned to get back inside the house, while Flaminia struggled with the slate, hissing in pain and frustration. Despite her efforts, she had only lifted it a palm off the sand and most of the gladiators were now snickering, amused by her failure.

“Your hands are not made for lifting burdens, but for seizing cock!”, Barca mocked her, sliding his free hand suggestively along his wooden spear. “I’d rather plunge hands in shit, you fucking cunt!”, she snarled in response. “ **What?** ”, he reduced his eyes to slits and walked menacingly towards her, incensed.

In an instant, both Ashur and Indus dropped their slates and placed themselves protectively before her. “Let him come to me, I’m not afraid of him”, she hissed, walking around the Syrian until she came face to face with the dark-skinned gladiator, “Come on, Beast of Carthage, show me what you can do”, she sneered.

Barca didn’t need to be told twice: he moved to punch her, but she ducked quickly and her left fist connected squarely with his groin, causing him to crumple on the sand and whimper in pain. “You fucking whore!”. “You had it coming”, she shot back, her full lips curving in a satisfied and slightly sadistic smirk as she watched Auctus helping his lover up and half-dragging him away.

Ashur let out a low whistle, impressed, “Nice punch”. She smiled warmly at him, “Gratitude for trying to protect me, both of you”, she added, nodding at Indus, “But I’m capable of taking care of myself, as you have seen”. The Syrian laughed, “Oh, I’ve seen it indeed! You’re as quick as serpent”, he exclaimed, then hesitated, “No offence meant, I...”.

“Gratitude!”, she beamed at him, a light blush spreading on her cheeks, “Nobody has ever called me serpent before, but I like it. Serpents are my favorite creatures, especially poisonous ones”. He relaxed, “You’re the first person I’ve ever met to feel joy at being compared to it. You’re quite unusual woman”, he said and his smile became a bit shy. “Oh”, her blush intensified, “Well...”.

Doctore’s shout broke the spell, startling them, “Recruits, stop wasting fucking time, grab weapons and spar!”. “Bless Mars, I’ve had enough of slates for lifetime!”, she sighed with relief, taking up a wooden sword and a shield. “Eh, I have to do this every day”, Ashur replied, “The life of gladiators is not easy. Will you...”. “Flaminia, will you spar with me?”, Indus cut him off, watching her like an eager puppy waiting to play fetch.

“I was about to ask same thing”, the other man snapped, “You could have at least allowed me to finish speaking”. “Oh, apologies”, the Macedon said, though he didn’t look apologetic in the slightest, “So, who do you choose?”, he asked the woman. She didn’t have to think on it, “I choose Ashur. Apologies, Indus”, she said, giving a warm smile to the younger man to soften the blow.

The Syrian preened like a peacock, “Wise choice”. “I know. Don’t pull blows, I’m fast enough to avoid them”, she assured him. “Your words are my command”, he joked, then struck high and hard, but his sword met her shield with a soft thud, “Good par”. “Told you. Again”.

They exchanged blows and he noticed that she was really quick on her feet, agile and graceful like a cat, but also vicious: despite fighting in a style similar to that of the gladiators, she used some moves he had never seen before and she also didn’t refrain from playing dirty.

“Not honorable way to fight”, he remarked as he avoided a handful of sand she’d just thrown at his face, though he was more amused than annoyed. She shrugged, “Honor means shit when you’re fighting for life”. His eyebrows shot up with surprise and his smile widened: this was a woman after his own heart, “I am in full agreement”.

Flaminia smiled back, “Pleasure to hear it. Too many men place value in honor and lose life in name of stupid principle. What use is honor to dead man anyway?”. “None at all”, he agreed, trying to kick her ankle to disrupt her balance, but she dodged with a chuckle and sidestepped, her shield connecting with his jaw, not hard enough to make damage, but enough to leave a bruise.

He massaged the aching spot and grinned, “I thought you said not to pull blows”. “Yes, but not when it comes to the face: I don’t want to knock teeth out and I most certainly don’t want to **lose** teeth either”. “Gratitude. I very much appreciate your care”. “I can be nice when I want to”, she winked. “But not to Barca?”. “No, definitely not to Barca!”, she confirmed and they shared a laugh.

888888888888

 ** _Parma:_** _it was a small round shield,_ _made of wood but_ _built on an iron frame, with a small iron boss in the centre._

 _Chiedo scusa ai miei compatrioti italiani per la battuta pietosa, ma_ devo _dirlo: non è crudo, è di Parma. ^-^_


	3. Troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashur and Flaminia get to know each other a little better

“So, where are you from?”, Flaminia asked Ashur, as she dodged his wooden sword. “A small village in Syria. It’s a beautiful place, peaceful and quiet and life was not that bad there, all things considered. Not until I was captured and sold into slavery, about five years ago”, he answered, sighing as his lips curved downward with a hint of bitterness, “They took me as I was at the market to buy supplies...Well, to **get** some supplies, truth be told”.

She blinked, “You don’t strike me as the thieving type. What led you to do it?”. He shrugged, “My little brother, Nasir, was ill and I did not have enough coin to buy both food and medicines. I wonder what happened to him, he was little more than a child and he was so naive and innocent...”, he added, a flash of pain passing in his dark eyes. “I’m sure your parents took good care of him”.

“Our parents are long dead. We were on our own, I was all the family he had left and I failed him”. “It was not your fault!”, she said hotly, “Those bastards ripped you from your home, blame should fall entirely on their heads, not on yours!”. He was taken aback by her outburst, but then smiled, “Gratitude for kind words. What about you? How did you end up in Capua?”.

“I was born here, in dominus’ house, since my mother lives there. And I have no siblings, though Kerovas is like brother to me”. “Kerovas?”. “The dark-skinned man who came to ludus with me”. “Ah, the walking mountain”, he joked and she laughed.

“Well, that’s quite fitting description. He too was born in dominus’ house, four years before me. I am grateful to Mars for his presence: without him, I would not be what I am today. And he is also the one who taught me how to fight”, she added, thrusting forward with her sword. “So he is the one to blame for the beating I’m taking?”, Ashur grinned, quickly rising his shield to parry the blow, “I’ll keep it in mind”.

The young woman chuckled and stepped back as he lunged at her, “He has shown attitude for fighting since he was a child, so, when I decided to learn the art of combat, I went to him. At first he didn’t want anything to do with it, claiming it was not good idea, but I pleaded and begged and made puppy eyes at him until he gave in”, she admitted, “He has never been able to deny me anything. So, you were captured five years ago, you said?”. “Well, more or less five years, yes”.

“But you became recruit only this year”, she noted, “Where did you spend the other four?”. “I worked as slave in a corn field. It was not nice place: we only got one meal a day and slept outdoors, be it summer or winter, under the Sun and in the snow. In the end, I could not stand such life anymore and tried to flee. That is why I was once again sold and ended up here as recruit”, he shivered at the memory of the freezing cold nights and shook his head, “I much prefer living in ludus, truth be told: life is not easy here either, but at least I have roof on my head, warm place to sleep and three meals a day”.

They kept on exchanging blows and chatting friendly for the best part of the morning, getting to know each other better and Flaminia was quite disappointed, when doctore’s brisk voice cut through the damp air. “Stop! Eat”, he simply said and everyone put their weapons back on the rack and gratefully slipped inside the fresh space which served as a refectory.

It was closed only on three sides, the fourth opening directly on the training yard, but it had at least a roof to keep out the glaring rays of the Sun. All the men took up a bowl and she did the same and moved to get in line, though her stomach churned at the thought of having lunch while still sweaty and dirty.

At home, she would have a fresh bath before sitting down for the meal, but she was not home now, she reminded herself and for a fleeting moment, she regretted her decision. But then she felt a gentle hand on her arm holding her back and when, looking up, she met Ashur’s eyes, her regret vanished in an instant.

“Gladiators eat first”, he told her, “Those without the Mark are last in line and eat from a different pot”. “Oh, I didn’t know”, she shot a glance at the table and noticed a smaller pot, “Is that the one we will eat from?”.

“Yes, that’s it. Come”, he guided her to the secondary line and let her go before himself, “Women first”, he said with a smile and her heart skipped a beat. “Gratitude”, she said, a shy grin curving her lips: she had never seen a smile so beautiful, so kind and warm and cheerful and the way his eyes shone when he smiled was…

A loud laugh snapped her attention back to her surroundings and she saw Rhaskos, one of the senior gladiators, a bulky man with rough features, looking at her. “I have something better for you to put in mouth than food, whore!”, he shouted at her, causing her to clench her fists and curl her upper lip like a snarling dog. “Try it, shit-eater”, she growled, “And I will cut off cock with my teeth… **If** I can find it”.

His eyebrows shot up at her reply and he made to walk to her, but Auctus quickly grabbed him by the arm and nodded in Barca’s direction, as if to say ‘don’t make his same mistake’. Rhaskos looked first at the Beast of Carthage, still holding his aching crotch protectively, then at the young woman and in the end, he decided to let it drop with a snort. “Wise choice”, she sneered, dripping smugness.

Behind her, Ashur chuckled, “Seems like they are afraid of you”, he murmured in her ear, amused. She felt a warm tingle running down her spine at his closeness and her core burned hotter than molten lava, “No matter how big and strong a man is, nobody can brush off a punch to cock. Even fa-dominus’ satelles, who is former gladiator and quite a big man, went down crying like an infant when he accidentally hit his crotch while descending biga. It was amusing…Well, not for him, but for me it was”, she added with an impish grin.

“And you made good use of his misfortune”. “Everywhere around us there is useful knowledge to be gained. One only needs to search for it”. He blinked, surprised, “Where did you hear that?”. “It’s just stray thought. Why? Is it stupid?”, she asked, suddenly worried.

“Quite the contrary, they’re wise words”. “Oh. Pleasure to hear it”, she took up the pot and helped herself of a small share of the thick porridge, barely suppressing a grimace of disgust at the sight, then quickly passed the pot to him, “It’s all yours”.

“It’s not that bad”. “I pray to Mars you’re right”, she took a cautious sniff of the soup…And slammed her bowl on the ground with a furious roar, “Who is fucking son of bitch who pissed in pot?”, she yelled, eyes flashing with undiluted rage. Auctus smirked, “You deserved it, whore!”.

Doctore frowned and shot a stern look at the gladiator, but didn’t even pretend to reprimand him, merely rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath. “You must have shit in your skull instead of brain, then, if you can’t tell the difference between pot and latrine”, Flaminia said, “Or was all the brain sucked out from cock by Barca?”.

This time, Ulpius did intervene, but not as she had expected him to: instead of giving a solid dressing down to Auctus, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and forced her to follow him, “You’re causing too much trouble, woman”, he said, leading her out of the ludus and up the stairs to the house, “I don’t give shit about what dominus said, you’re not staying in ludus one minute longer!”.

“It’s not for you to decide”, she snapped, but he ignored her and gestured to Diona, one of the house slaves. “I want to have words with dominus”. In a moment, Batiatus was before them, Kerovas in tow and both of them tensed as they saw the way doctore was holding Flaminia. “Let her fucking go!”, the dominus ordered.

Ulpius complied, “Dominus, this woman is causing trouble in ludus: she punched Barca in the groin and keeps on provoking the gladiators with her fucking arrogance!”. The Roman woman snorted, “They started it! Barca had it coming and as for Auctus, he **pissed** in the food! Was I supposed to swallow piss without complaints?”. “You are woman, you are supposed to swallow a whole cock without complaints”.

“ENOUGH!”, Batiatus shouted, “Doctore, if you ever dare to speak to her like that again, I will have you castrated and crucified, is that clear?”. Doctore’s eyes widened in shock, but he nodded all the same, “Dominus”. “Flaminia, I think you have spent enough time in ludus. Go and have a bath. Diona, help her”. Diona nodded, “Dominus”, she gently took Flaminia’s hand in hers and they left together.

As soon as the men were alone, Kerovas turned to Batiatus, “Dominus, may I have words with doctore now?”. “Not yet, I have an announcement to make first: from this moment on, Ulpius, you are not doctore anymore and are assigned to cleaning latrines. Oenomaus is to assume mantle in your stead. I will have Melitta bring him good news”, the master smirked evilly and looked at Kerovas, “ **Now** you can have words with him. Try not to leave too much blood on the floor”.

The young slave nodded and grinned, a scary, cruel and sadistic grin, “Gratitude, dominus”.


	4. Patronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patronizing is something Flaminia is extremely good at

While Kerovas was ‘having words’ with Ulpius, Flaminia enjoyed a deliciously fresh bath and scrubbed her body vigorously with a soft towel, watching with a mixture of relief and disgust as the sweat and crusted sand came off of her skin. “It’s good to be clean again”, she said to Diona, who sat at the side of the pool with an amphora of scented oil, “But I wish I had more time in ludus”.

The slave gave her a shy but curious look, “Why did you pretend to be slave, domina?”. “Because I wanted to meet one of recruits. I saw him from the balcony, but…I wanted to meet him, to speak to him, to hear his voice speaking to me, to spar with him…”. “And nothing more?”, Gaia asked, entering the room.

Flaminia rolled her eyes with a mix of amusement, affection and exasperation, “Nothing more, no. Or rather…I would like to be closer to him, but I’m not allowed to”. The older woman sighed, “Janus is too protective”. “It’s not protectiveness, he wants me to be unspoiled because virginity is part of dowry”, her friend replied, her voice taking on a bitter note.

“Such shame! You’re not allowed to enjoy even one of the many delights life has to offer, be it sex, wine or opium”. “You still make use of it?”. “Only on occasion”, Gaia said and took a small vial out of a hidden pocket, “This is for you, a little memento from Cyprus”. “It’s too expensive, I can’t accept...”.

“Oh, shush! It was coin from my late husband’s purse anyway”, she winked, “As for your father, I could convince him to change his mind about dowry”. “He will not be back to Capua for weeks, I fear. But you would have my deepest gratitude, should you succeed, dear friend”. She smiled and took the younger woman’s hands, “I will do all I can to help you”, she promised, kissing her cheek fondly.

“The Gods were kind to me, giving me such good friends as you, Quintus and Lucretia”, Flaminia smiled back and exited the pool, then she dried herself and proceeded to rub some scented oil on her body, “Mmmhhh, I love scent of flowers!”. “And no doubt your recruit of choice would love it too”. “I…”.

“Oh, no reason to feel shame, I too become wet when thinking of the gladiators”. “Which one?”, she asked, suddenly tense. “Gannicus, who else? He is such a wild beast”. She let out a relieved sigh, “Good”. Gaia laughed, “You’re jealous!”.

“What? No, I…”, the younger woman began, but then she averted her eyes, “Yes. I know it’s madness, but…I want him for myself”. “Buy him, then”. “I can’t, Quintus needs him. But maybe…”, she reflected for a long moment, then nodded to herself, “Yes, that will work. I must speak to Quintus”, she quickly put her white dress and her jewels on and ran to Batiatus’ study.

He was at the desk, sifting through some papers, but looked up as she entered the room, “Ah, I see you are yourself once again, friend. Are you well?”. “I am. Where is Kerovas?”. “He is…Busy, but will join us as soon as he’s finished with former doctore”. “Former?”, she asked, puzzled.

“I stripped Ulpius of mantle and gave it to Oenomaus. He will no doubt do a better job than his predecessor in keeping discipline”. “Oh, I wasn’t harmed in any way. But I did punch Barca in the groin”. The lanista laughed out loud, “I wish I could have seen scene! You didn’t do any lasting damage, though, I hope?”. “No, I don’t think so”.

“Good. So, are you satisfied with your recruit of choice?”. She smiled widely, “I am indeed! I want to patronize Ashur and Indus”. He blinked, “ **Two** recruits? Why Indus too?”. “He...Has potential”, she replied evasively, not wanting to admit that she was patronizing the Macedon only because he had been kind to her, “But I have condition”. “Whatever you want, dearest”.

“From now on, Ashur will be considered as my own property, as though I had bought him from you. Officially, he will fight for your ludus, but I will be his true owner and he is not to be used for anything other than fighting in the arena. And I want Kerovas to train him and Indus in a different fighting style, so that they will be more effective on the sand. Is it acceptable to you?”.

Batiatus was baffled by her request and the determination in her voice, “It is. I accept condition and Ashur is now officially property of House...”. “No, not of House Lutatius, but of **Flaminia** of House Lutatius. Family has nothing to do with him”. “All right, then. We have deal”.

The young woman smiled, “Gratitude, Quintus. I have first payment here with me”, she added, handing him a heavy coin purse, “One hundred and fifty denarii, I hope it’s enough”. “It’s more than enough!”. “Another thing: Ashur is not to be allowed to fuck whores. I want him to remain chaste”.

“Why? Do you...”, he gave her a worried look, “Do you want him for yourself?”. “I want him to be mine alone, even if I can’t have him in my bed, yes. Is it a problem?”. “No...As long as you don’t lie with him: Janus would kill me, if you lost virginity while under my care”. “I won’t lose it, until father tells me that I can and with the man he chooses for me”, she reassured him bitterly, “You need not worry”.

“It is relief to hear it. Come, let’s see if Kerovas has finished with Ulpius”, he proposed and was glad to see her smiling again. “With pleasure”, she said, following him out of the study. Kerovas was sat on a triclinium, cleaning his bloodied hands with a rag and the former doctore lay on the floor, alive but out cold, bearing the signs of a heavy beating.

“Kerovas!”, Flaminia ran to her bodyguard, worried, “Are you injured? Let me see this cut”, she gently took his face in her hands and observed a cut on his left cheek, “Naevia! Bring me some healing balm, please”. “Domina”. The young man took his domina’s hand in his, “I’m fine, worry not. And dominus, I didn’t kill him, I just taught him a lesson”.

Batiatus looked at the unconscious Ulpius and smirked, “Gratitude for your care”, he gestured to one of the male house slaves, “Bring him to medicus”. As the former doctore was dragged away, the young woman gently applied the healing balm on Kerovas’ injuries. “You will rest for a full day tomorrow, is that clear?”. “Yes, domina”.

“Good. Now let’s go home, I want you to be in full health for next assignment”. “As you wish”. “Quintus, see you in two days. Give Lucretia my regards, please”. Batiatus nodded, “I will. See you in two days, dearest”.


	5. Hard lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashur and Indus get some hard lessons and a new recruit arrives at the ludus

Two days later, Kerovas walked once again on the sand of the ludus by Batiatus’ side. The lanista gestured for Oenomaus to approach, “Doctore, this is Kerovas, he will work with you in training Ashur and Indus”. The tall Numidian blinked, “Dominus?”, was all he said, as he didn’t dare question his master, but his puzzlement was written on his face in bold letters.

“Dear friend has decided to patronize them both and wants him to teach them fighting style other than the Thraex style they are learning”, Batiatus explained, “And I think it’s excellent idea: those two are not at the same level as others, so anything that can increase their chances of victory is welcome”, he added.

Oenomaus nodded, “Your will, my hands”. “Good. Now get to work”. Kerovas nodded as well, though it was only a small nod, nothing like the deference he reserved for his domina, “Dominus”. As the master went back to the house, the younger slave turned to doctore, “Shall I begin training the recruits now, or would you rather have them start with the usual routine and have my additional lesson after lunch?”.

The older man thought about it for a moment, “I think it better to have them start now: no reason to waste time”, he answered, walking towards the weapon rack, “So, different style, uh?”. “Yes: I was trained by dominus’ satelles, he was quite a good gladiator in Rome once and before that, he was member of army in his homeland”.

“If he was so good, why was he sold, then?”. Kerovas smirked, “He fucked lanista’s wife **and** daughter”. Oenomaus’ eyes went wide as dinner plates, “And he wasn’t killed?”. “My dominus offered to buy him for twice the value and his former owner’s greed was too great to let such an opportunity pass him by”.

“I see. But isn’t your dominus worried he could do the same thing again?”. The younger man shook his head, “Domina has no interest in him, she has eyes only for another man. As for dominus’ wife, she has…Different tastes, if you catch meaning”, he said with a mischievous grin as he placed his hands on his chest to imitate a pair of big breasts. “Really?”. “Yes”. “Ah”, doctore was clearly surprised by that revelation, but shook it off and called, “Ashur, Indus! Come here!”.

The two recruits quickly obeyed, wooden swords and shields still in hand. “This is Kerovas, he will train you every morning for...”, Oenomaus trailed off and looked at Kerovas, “For how long, exactly?”. “Until the day of Test”. “If they survive that long”, he said with obvious skepticism.

“They will learn and they will prove themselves worthy of receiving the Mark of the Brotherhood, or my domina will be quite disappointed in me and I don’t want to disappoint her”, Kerovas said, his voice gaining an edge as he looked at the recruits pointedly, “And neither do you, I hope”. Indus shook his head, “Of course not! We will make her proud, you’ll see”, he said in a rush, clearly intimidated by Kerovas’ size and burning eyes.

Ashur for his part wasn’t impressed, but he still seemed nervous as he looked at the taller man, “You came here two days ago”, he noted, “With Flaminia”. “I did”. “Why isn’t she with you? How is she? Did your domina hurt her?”. Kerovas arched an eyebrow, “I fail to see what business it is of yours”.

“I...It’s just that she is a nice person and...”. “You’re worried about her”. “Yes”. A corner of his mouth quirked upward, “How noble of you. And you have no reason to worry: she is in full health, safely at home”. The Syrian relaxed at that and smiled, “Good”. “Enough wasting time now: we have lot of work to do”.

888888888888

Morning passed quickly, at least to Kerovas, but to Indus and Ashur it lasted a lifetime: their new teacher was faster and stronger than they were used to and they ended up battered, bruised and exhausted, because Kerovas was not the type to pull blows, though he took care to never hit them in the face since he had promised his domina not to.

On the bright side, they learnt three new moves in a style they had never seen before, named ‘ittou’, or something similarly exotic. The tall warrior seemed satisfied with his students and nodded with a small smile, “You are taking it seriously. Good, I have no patience for fools and no desire to waste my time. Lesson is finished for today, but I expect you to practice more this afternoon and tomorrow, I will teach you some moves for unarmed combat”.

The Macedon blinked, “We don’t need to learn unarmed combat, we always have weapons”, he said. “What will you do, if your opponent manages to disarm you?”. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of it”. “Mind is the most important weapon fighters have at their disposal”, Kerovas told him, then he shot a look at Barca and smirked, “But there are exceptions”.

Ashur cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed, “Will Flaminia accompany you tomorrow?”. The smirk widened, “She is busy, but if you do a good enough job with your training, I may convince her to come”. Indus brightened at that, “When?”. “It depends on your progresses. Now go and eat, I’ll see you tomorrow”, the taller man replied, turning to leave. “Please, bring her my greetings”, the Syrian said, instantly echoed by Indus. “Bring her mine too!”. “I will”.

888888888888

In the following weeks, it became clear that the additional training was bearing fruit: both Ashur and Indus were improving, learning to rely on their speed and agility more than on brute strength and using the techniques they had been taught to defeat their opponent, or rather, try to, since Kerovas was always two steps ahead of them.

Their progresses were more evident when they sparred with the others in the afternoon, to the point that one day, Oenomaus decided to see just how much that training had worked by pairing Ashur against Auctus.

The gladiator smirked as he moved to stand before the Syrian, “I will make you eat shit, little cunt”, he declared confidently. “Not great improvement than eating piss at lunch”, Ashur commented, hiding a grin and twirling the practice sword with feigned goofiness. “You will eat that too”. “We’ll see”.

Auctus lunged forward, spear at the ready, but the recruit quickly sidestepped and kicked him in the back of the knee, bringing him down, then he struck him on the back of the head with the shield, took a step forward, twirled on his axis and struck the gladiator again, this time in the face with his heel, not hard enough to knock out a tooth, but enough to make him spit blood.

The young man wanted to play, though, to repay the gladiator of the many humiliations he’d had to suffer at his hands, so he made room for Auctus to get back up and twirled the wooden sword again, this time with practiced ease.

The older man was obviously pissed off and the hand that held the spear was clenched so tightly that his knuckles paled, “Fucking cunt!”, he snarled, trying to impale his spear into the Syrian’s chest, but Ashur slammed it aside with his shield as he had learned and stepped closer to the other man, thrusting the pommel of the sword against his stomach and then upward against his chin.

Again, he stepped back to allow his opponent to regain his balance and the gladiator made a feint to the right only to then lunge to the left, but he was ready: he waited until the last second, bent and thrust forward with the flat of his sword, hitting his opponent in the groin, then placed the shield flat above his head and stood abruptly, sending the gladiator sprawled on the ground.

As a final touch, while Auctus was still dazed by the blow, Ashur knelt and placed the tip of his sword on the other’s throat, finally allowing himself to smile, “I’m fucking victor!”, he shouted with triumph.

A stunned silence fell on the training ground, nobody could believe that the Syrian, a mere _recruit_ , had been able to defeat none other than Auctus, one of the senior gladiators and among the best of House of Batiatus.

Gannicus’ loud laughter broke the spell, “Seems like you’re not as good as you used to be, if recruit can get you on your back like whore about to be fucked”, he addressed his fellow gladiator, then moved forward to clap Ashur on the back, “You did well, for fucking recruit”. The Syrian felt a rush of pride at those words: he had just been complimented by the champion! Now all it needed to make this day perfect would be to...

The sound of enthusiastic clapping came from the balcony above their heads and looking up, he saw that his prayer had been answered before he could even finish the thought: Flaminia stood there, beaming and looking straight at him with a warm, proud smile that made his heart race like a wild horse.

He raised his wooden sword and smiled back and she blew him a kiss, but then turned as Batiatus came to stand beside her and with obvious reluctance, she followed the lanista inside the house, leaving Ashur quite disappointed.

“Enough wasting time!”, doctore ordered, making his whip snap on the ground, “Auctus, spar with Barca. Ashur, with Dagan. Go back to work”, he said in his usual brisk tone, though he was secretly impressed by Ashur’s progresses: he would have never placed a bet on such an outcome, when he had paired the Syrian with Aucuts and yet...

He would have to keep an eye on that recruit.

888888888888

That evening, while Ashur, Indus and Dagan, the only recruits out of eight to still live, were resting in their cell, sitting with their backs against the cold steel of the bars, the outer door opened and a man was forcibly tossed in the cell next to their own by a guard. The stranger was tall and had a bulky frame, with long, wild black hair and a short, unkempt beard. “Fucking Gaul!”, the guard spat, locking the door again as the newcomer rose from the ground and sat up.

“Another sacrifice for the gods of the arena”, Ashur told Indus, smirking. Dagan looked the stranger over for a moment, “ _Weak and flabby, looks like a cheap whore_ ”, he commented spitefully in his native language. His countryman burst out laughing at that, then composed himself as he turned to address the new arrival, “Dagan thinks you’ve form to...Even odds in your favor”. “Odds?”, the stranger repeated, frowning.

“Do you know where you are, friend?”, Indus asked him, worried. “The house of Batiatus, trainer of gladiators”, the other man answered, revealing a gruff and raspy voice. “Yes. You stand among the slaves as recruits, bound by pain and blood”, Ashur said, taking a handful of sand and pouring it on Dagan’s open palm, “Together we toil under the cruel sting of doctore’s whip”.

“There were eight of us when training began”, Indus added and Ashur’s good mood evaporated in an instant as he gritted his teeth in mixed anger and sadness, remembering the fallen companions. “Now we’re but three”.

The newcomer smirked confidently, “Four”, he stated. The Syrian watched him for a moment and chuckled at the resolute expression on his face, “And how are we so blessed by our swelling number, hm? By what means did you find yourself among our storied company?”. “My own”.

Indus’ eyes widened in shock, “You willingly present ass for fucking?!?”. “No”, Ashur shook his head, never taking his gaze off of the newcomer, “No, young Indus. Do you not see it in his eyes? This is a man with dreams of blood and glory”. “I doubt he’ll live to see the Test”, the Macedon replied.

“Test?”, the stranger asked, confused. “Our last trial”, the Syrian explained, “We must all face one of the seasoned men and demonstrate to the dominus what we have learned. Live and receive the Mark of the Brotherhood, proving yourself worthy of the arena”. The Gaul’s lips curved in a proud and confident smirk once again, “I will stand upon that sand”.

Dagan grinned, “ _Shitty little man_ ”, he told him, “ _You won’t even have the strength left to suck my cock_ ”. “Uh, he longs to call you brother”, Ashur mistranslated for the newcomer, “And join you as gladiator”. The Gaul shot a look at Dagan, noticing the mocking grin on his face and understood that something had gone lost in translation, “Tell him the feeling is well shared”.

888888888888

**_Thraex:_** _it is one of the typical gladiators fighting styles. A Thraex gladiator was equipped with a small round shield called ‘parma’ or ‘parmula’ and a short sword called ‘sica’. The Thraex fighting style was suited for men who had long and toned bodies, resembling the tall and slender Thracian warrior and they fought with a fast paced and agile style._

_Note: The alternative sword-fighting style Kerovas is teaching Ashur and Indus is inspired by the ancient japanese fighting style known as “Ittoryu” (literally ‘one sword style’)._


	6. Issuing the challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vettius challenges Batiatus to prove the worth of his men and Batiatus is more than happy to accept the challenge.

The following morning, Batiatus, along with Solonius, Flaminia and Kerovas, was walking through the market, headed to a shop he knew Tullius used to buy from, because, as he said, he had studied Tullius’ habits ‘ _as any proper student would in pursuit of knowledge’_. He planned to ingratiate himself to Tullius in the hopes of securing a better position for his men in the upcoming games, instead of having them stuck to the morning fights.

Tullius was nowhere to be seen, but one of his slaves was standing out of an alley and Quintus quickly approached him. “I seek your master, good Tullius. Would he be within?”. The slave looked him over and gave him a flat stare, “Yeah”. “I wish to express my gratitude for allowing me to purchase his slave, Crixus”, the lanista said, a bit unnerved at being forced to stand outside, “The Gaul shows great promise towards the arena”.

Since the slave didn’t give signs of intending to move to let him pass, he turned to Flaminia, who subtly gave him a handful of coins, which he handed to the man barring his step, “Perhaps you could pass word of my presence?”. The slave took the money and after receiving a bit more, he ‘graciously’ turned and entered the shop to deliver the message.

Solonius was not happy with the whole situation, “You owe her more each day that goes by”. “A costly enterprise”, Batiatus replied with a smile, “For us all”. Flaminia nodded, “It is worth it, though. And I will do everything is needed to help my friends, you know this”, she added. “I pray this will bring profit”, Solonius commented, worried.

After a while, the slave lifted the tent up to let them enter the alley and they saw Tullius walking towards them with a smile. “Good Batiatus!”. “Gods answer”, Quintus whispered to his friends, but his good mood evaporated as Vettius came into view. “And fuck in turn”, Solonius muttered back, clenching his teeth.

Tullius bowed his head to the young woman, “Ah, beautiful Flaminia, you bring light everywhere you go, like glorious Sun”. She forced herself to look flattered, “You are too kind, good Tullius”. “No. Never too kind”, he replied, his smile reminding her of a snake about to strike as he turned to Batiatus, “I hope for occasion to give gratitude for relieving me of the troublesome Gaul”.

“Think nothing of it!”, Quintus said as cheerfully as he could manage, “A gesture of respect for a man deserving of it”. “I see you had good intentions. Yet, I fear you have...Overpaid”. “A common mistake”, Vettius spoke up, coming to stand beside the merchant, “For those who have no head towards business”.

Batiatus’ lips pressed with anger at his mocking, but he stayed silent. “Fifty denarii”, Tullius took a coin purse from his slave and extended it towards the older lanista, “Money’s the ten of the Gaul’s actual worth”. “Well, I...”, Batiatus hesitated, confused, ”I do not ask for its return, a fair bargain was struck”.

“Fair?”, Vettius repeated with a mocking laugh, “A cloudy maneuver to gain position for your ill-trained men”, he spat. That angered Quintus more than anything, “ **Ill-trained**? Any one of my men could best yours fucking blindfolded, you pissy little shit!”. “Listen how the rooster crows”, Vettius sneered. “Let us calm ourselves...”, Solonius tried to say, but his friend was beyond listening by then.

“You doubt my words? Test them!”, he exclaimed, “Request a match in next month’s games!”. “Why delay?”, the young little prat said smugly, “Let us see it here in the morning, with the people to judge who holds the better men”. “And that is Quintus”, Flaminia stated, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder and glaring at Vettius, “Your worthless cunts are nothing compared to his titans and you will come to regret your mistake tomorrow!”.

Solonius was on the brink of despair now that both his friends were going along with that folly, “At the market? Surely the magistrate will not approve such...Disruption”, he said in a reasonable tone, trying to avoid a disaster. “Good Tullius has his ear”, Vettius replied with a satisfied smile and Tullius nodded.

“The magistrate could be swayed to allow it...If that is what you wish”, he added, feigning concern. “It is”, Batiatus stated, determined to wipe the smugness from the younger lanista’s face once and for all, “It’s long past due”. “Tomorrow then”, Tullius said with a wide, poisonous grin, “A friendly rivalry. We’ll settle it”, he said, leaving with his lackey.

Solonius sighed, “You pressed beyond advantage”, he berated his old friend. “I don’t think so”, Flaminia spoke up, “Quintus’ gladiators are superior in any way to those of that fucking little cock-sucking cunt and this is perfect opportunity to show the people of Capua once and for all who is the true worthy lanista among them”. Batiatus nodded enthusiastically, “Well said, dearest!”, he exclaimed, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek, “You understand! Stupid child will be humiliated before even the magistrate!”.

Solonius shook his head resignedly, “Go ahead with this madness then. I pray to Gods that everything will go well”. “It will, friend, it will! How can my man lose, when I have blessing of Mars himself through this wonderful woman?”. He didn’t reply, but it was clear from the look on his face that he disapproved of that goddamned mess. He could only hope it would not blow up in their faces.


	7. Gannicus VS Otho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batiatus’ champion fights against that of Vettius, who comes to deeply regret his mistake.

Morning came and Batiatus, Lucretia, Solonius, Flaminia and Gaia walked to the market as planned, with Kerovas, Oenomaus and Gannicus in tow. The blond Celt had been chosen to fight for the honor of Batiatus’ house, but from the looks of him, it was obvious he had overindulged with wine the previous night: he kept on blinking owlishly and frowned and let out small annoyed grunts every time the sunlight hit his clear blue eyes.

Finally they reached the market square, where Tullius and Vettius were already waiting for them. “The fool at last shows himself”, Vettius sneered as he saw them. “Batiatus”, Tullius added with his usual slimy smile, “We had begun to fret on your arrival. But now I see arrival brought an unexpected gift. It’s been too long, Gaia”, he added as he noticed Gaia, who wore a very revealing scarlet dress and her trademark red wig. She lowered her eyes for a moment with studied fake modesty and shot him a sultry smile.

“And it grows longer still”, Vettius snapped impatiently, pursing his lips. “Apologies for my delay”, Batiatus said, “I had much difficulty in the choosing of a man. An imposing task, when each among my stable stands a titan!”, he declared, raising his voice to make sure everyone in the market could hear him, “Perhaps, young Vettius should have taken more time with the choosing of his own”, he added, nodding towards the opponent that would face Gannicus.

“Words fall from your mouth like shit from ass”, the younger lanista spat, eliciting an amused chuckle from Batiatus, who looked quite pleased at seeing him so riled up by his words. “Let us not become mired in base exchange”, Tullius said in a false placating tone, then shouted to the crowd, “We are gathered this glorious day to witness honorable contest between respected rivals. Clear space!”. The people gathered in the square obediently moved aside, leaving room for Gannicus and his opponent to fight.

“The years have favored Tullius”, Gaia said to Lucretia, giggling. “And his purse”, the other woman added. At their side, Oenomaus looked on at the scene unfolding before his eyes with a resigned expression: he didn’t approve of the fight taking place in the market, instead of the arena, but he knew it would help his dominus rising in status, so he kept silent.

“Gratitude to magistrate Sextus”, Tullius said, gesturing to the magistrate standing a few feet behind him. Solonius clapped Batiatus on the shoulder with a satisfied smile, “Bid turns larger than expected! Your mad schemes may yet bear fruit”, he whispered to his friend, who nodded. “Enough for both of us to feast upon”, he agreed, as Tullius kept on shouting to the crowd, which exploded in an enthusiastic clapping.

“Batiatus! Present your man”. The lanista smiled proudly as he took a step forward, “In honor of the magistrate, the esteemed Tullius and the good people of Capua, I give to you the fiercest man ever to take up arms in the arena! Slayer of beasts, conqueror of giants! Behold Gannicus, champion of the House of Batiatus!”, he shouted, stepping aside as Gannicus stepped forward and twirled his twin swords with a roar.

“A fine choice”, Tullius said, “Vettius, present **your** man”. “I have no tongue for over-ripe embellishment”, the younger man sneered, “Nor is it required. Otho, stand forth”, he said and his gladiator stepped obediently forward, revealing himself to be a bulky brute with a Goblin-like face, equipped with a sword and a round shield.

Otho took a defensive position, “The day finally comes”, he growled at Gannicus, still pissed off by the way the Celt had mocked him weeks before while he was waiting to fight in the arena. “And yours end”, Gannicus replied, getting into position himself. “Gratitude, Batiatus and Vettius”, Tullius said, “Now, let us challenge who stands the better house!”.

Magistrate Sextus raised his arm, ready to give the sign for the fight to begin, but Vettius intervened. “Apologies, magistrate, it appears there is something missing. Where is your man’s blindfold?”, he asked Batiatus, smiling smugly. The older lanista frowned, then let out a disbelieving chuckle, “Blindfold? The fuck...?”.

Vettius took a white cloth from one of his slaves, “That was your boast, was it not? That your gladiator could best any of my men, absent sight”, he said and at that, Gannicus lowered his swords and shot his dominus what was an unmistakable ‘WTF’ look.

“You did voice such challenge”, Tullius reminded Batiatus. “A simple figure of speech, not meant to be...”, Batiatus shook his head, “Good Tullius...”, he began, but Vettius cut him off. “If Batiatus does not wish to honor terms, he should remove himself. With tail between legs”, he added with a mocking smile.

Those words riled Quintus up, but incensed Gannicus as well, to the point that he handed his swords to Oenomaus and accepted to fight blindfolded as requested by the insufferable little prat. “It all should not to be too difficult”, the Celt said, while tying the cloth on his head, “I need only direct my blades towards the smell of shit”.

When he was ready, he was given his swords back and got into position, under the worried eyes of his dominus. “Why do you allow this?”, Lucretia whispered to her husband, who sighed. “The choice has been removed from my hands”. “Fear not”, Flaminia reassured them, “Gannicus is a titan of House of Batiatus. He will win, for he has the best training of the entire republic and bears Mars’ blessing upon himself”. “I trust your words, then”, the lanista smiled, relieved.

The magistrate raised his arm and lowered it, “Begin!”. At that, Otho charged forward and slashed, but Gannicus ducked under his blade and parried his next blows as easily as if he had been able to see them coming. Even with the disadvantage of the blindfold, the Celt matched his opponent blow for blow, then threw him to the ground, grabbed his right wrist and slammed it on the tiles repeatedly.

Otho managed to slip from under him and rolled the two of them over, then he began punching Gannicus in the face, but the other man wrapped his legs around his neck tightly, so Otho took him up and slammed him on the ground, knocking the wind out of the Celt, only to roll away and take his shield back up. He used it to hit Gannicus on the legs, toppling him over, then kicked him in the stomach and the face as he was trying to get up.

The Celt was far from defeated, though and he got up, threw his opponent on the ground and punched him in the face again and again and again. Otho once again freed himself, grabbed an iron nail from a nearby stall and used it to stake the other man in the neck, thankfully not deep enough to make serious damage.

Gannicus shouted in pain, but got up quickly despite it and when Otho made the fatal mistake of picking his sword up, the fight reached the end: the Celt dodged an incoming blow, then, when the blade remained stuck into the wood of the stall, he grabbed his opponent by the neck, slammed his head on the wood twice, forced him to kneel and pressed his neck on the blade until the throat was slashed open.

The crowd roared with approval and as Gannicus removed the blindfold, Batiatus walked forward and put an arm around his shoulders. “YES! Have you ever fucking seen the like?”, he addressed the crowd, enthusiastic, “Perhaps, good Vettius should pit a man less weak than that against the mighty Gannicus!”, he added.

“It would do him no good”, Flaminia said, coming to stand by his side, “No man can stand a chance against the titans of the House of Batiatus!”, she then shouted, giving Gannicus an approving smile and placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment, “Well done, champion”.

The magistrate walked up to meet them, “An impressive display, Batiatus”, he complimented the lanista, “One not soon forgotten”. When he left, Tullius took his place, “Gannicus is truly a wonder”, he said. “One deserving more prominent position in the games”, Batiatus agreed. “A guess from my very thoughts. Join me at Vettius’ shop after the market closes, we’ll discuss your man then”, he proposed, before leaving with his young underling.

The lanista beamed and slipped an arm around Flaminia’s shoulders, “Heard that? Gods are answering!”. “Be careful, Quintus: Tullius is not man to trust, he will stab you in the back first opportunity he gets, even more so now that Gannicus humiliated his brat in front of the magistrate”. “You worry too much, dearest”. “I worry because I care”. “Ah, what did I do to be so blessed?”, he smiled. “You’re you. Nothing else is needed”, she said, smiling back.

Gannicus waited until she was alone and sidled up to her, “Did you enjoy the fight?”. “You were a sight to see indeed”, she nodded, “Mars’ blessing was clearly upon you and now, I’m sure He is looking upon you even more favorably”. “I have no need for Gods, I only need my swords to win”. “Bold words, champion”, she chuckled, “But there may be some truth to them”.

“Only some?”, he repeated, joining her laugh. “Well, I don’t want them to strike me down for blasphemy”. “No God worth their salt could ever strike such a beautiful woman down”, he purred, taking her hand, but she took a step back. “I already told you, I’m not...”. “Interested, I know. I only hoped my display could have changed your mind”.

“Nothing can change my mind”. “Nothing, really?”. She shrugged, “I’m stubborn”. “So I see. Want me to bring some words to your recruit, then?”. “Gratitude, but there is no need. I will manage to make my words reach him in a different way”. “Oh?”, he arched an eyebrow, “What is it?”. “It’s a secret”. He made to speak again, but Batiatus sent him home with Oenomaus, so the Celt contented himself with giving her a mischievous wink as he was leaving.

When he was back in the ludus, the gladiators cheered at seeing him enter. “Only mad Gannicus could win contest fucking blindfolded!”, Auctus exclaimed, bowing to his friend. Barca smirked, “Barca could do the same”. “And I would kill you for being a fool”, Auctus replied, grabbing the Beast of Chartage by the nape and kissing him hungrily.

“Auctus speaks true”, Oenomaus said, clapping the blond Celt on the shoulder, “Facing Vettius’ man absent sight was beyond foolish. The Gods must have taken pity on your addled brain”. Gannicus chuckled, “Gods had nothing to do with it. Otho, he grunted like stuck pig before each attack. His squeals gave away his position”, he added, making everyone laugh.

“Your victory lifts the heart”, doctore said, clasping his forearm. “You’ll not get rid of Gannicus so easily, brother”, Gannicus replied, then he addressed the others, “Dominus rewards me with all the wine that I can drink and I will share it with my brothers!”, he then shot a look at the hopeful recruits and added, “Those that bear the Mark”. The four men were crestfallen. “One day”, Crixus told his fellow recruits, trying to lift their spirits.

Then, one of the younger slaves, who had the task to keep the ludus clean, entered the room, “Doctore...”. “What is it?”. “There is a man outside the gates, he says he has gift for two recruits”. “I will see him”, the Numidian followed the younger slave to the gates, where he found Kerovas, who carried a big basket covered by a white cloth.

“Ah, pleasure to see you again. What brings you here?”. “I bring gift for Ashur and Indus”, Kerovas answered, showing him the basket. “And this gift comes from where exactly?”. “My domina sends it, so that they can celebrate Gannicus’ victory”, he said, “And I trust that you will make sure the gladiators will neither steal, nor soil it. My domina would be most displeased, should that happen”.

“You have my word that nobody will touch a single thing from it without their consent”, Oenomaus promised, opening the gate and taking the basket. “Gratitude. Oh and Flaminia wishes Ashur to have this”, the younger man added, giving him a small sealed piece of parchment. “I will deliver it as well”. “Again, my gratitude. Goodbye”.

“Goodbye”, doctore went back into the ludus and gave the basket to Indus, “This is for you and Ashur, from the woman who patronizes you”. The Macedon blinked, then he took the cloth off of the basket and smiled widely, “This is for us, really? Great!”, he exclaimed, seeing the small amphora of wine, the fresh fruit and the still steaming slices of roasted meat inside it.

Ashur beamed, “Most generous domina who patronizes Indus and myself sent a delicious gift to us and we will share it with our brothers!”, he announced loudly, then his smile turned smug as he added, “Those that do **not** bear the Mark”. Dagan and Crixus cheered and the four of them sat in their usual corner to enjoy the feast, but Oenomaus cleared his throat and gestured for Ashur to follow him. “This is for you only, from Flaminia”, the Numidian explained.

The recruit took the parchment eagerly, his pulse quickening with anticipation, “Gratitude, doctore”. “You’re welcome”, Oenomaus replied, then rejoined the gladiators to celebrate with the wine Gannicus had been rewarded with. Ashur opened the seal and unrolled the parchment quickly. The message read: ‘ _Today we celebrate Gannicus’ victory, but soon the day will come when all Capua will celebrate yours. I have faith in you. With all my heart, Flaminia_ ’.

He pressed it against his heart, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he repeated the words in his mind. Soon, he thought, soon all Capua would know his name. One day, everyone will know the name Ashur as the name of the champion.


	8. A man who does not take ‘no’ for an answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tullius makes an offer that Batiatus refuses. Unfortunately, Tullius is not pleased by the answer

That night, while the gladiators and recruits celebrated with food and drink and Lucretia and Gaia celebrated in their own way with opium and lesbian sex, Batiatus went to meet Tullius as planned, bringing only a young slave with him, more to carry the coin purse than for anything else: he didn’t think he would need protection, after all.  
Tullius greeted with his usual wide, slimy smile, “Good Batiatus! Word of Gannicus’ victory has spread throughout the city. His name and yours fall from every mouth”, he added, offering a golden chalice of wine to his guest, who accepted it gladly. “May they always find the taste pleasing”, the lanista made a playful toast before drinking.  
”Everyone clamors to see your man again. With the exception of poor Vettius: he’s still recovering from the ordeal”. “Unfortunate that he could not provide more worthy opponent. His stock is well known to be of inferior quality, as is the boy himself: the manner in which he tends the ludus…The child has no fucking talent for it”.  
Tullius was silent for a moment, his expression shifting slightly, “You surprise me, Batiatus. Your disposition towards business is much more…Aggressive than your father’s”. “We’re of diverging temperament. And desires”. “How does he fare in Sicilia?”. “The climate is more agreeable to various conditions brought about by the passing of the years”, Quintus answered casually, “How did the magistrate take to Gannicus’ display?”.  
“Ignited by it. As was the crowd. He even brought subject of partaking of the man for the opening games of new arena”. “Gannicus in the opening games?”, he repeated, overwhelmed by surprise and happiness, “If you could aid in such a thing, I would forever be in your debt”. Tullius shrugged, “Merely requires a word in the proper ear”, he replied, “All that remains is to agree upon a price”.  
“Well, of course! I would be happy to see coin to your hand in exchange for assistance. What, uh, sum did you have in mind?”, Batiatus asked reluctantly. The merchant laughed out loud, “You misunderstand, Batiatus! I do not offer a broker arrangement, I offer to purchase your man”. At that, the lanista sobered and as he realized he had put himself into a corner, his nervousness grew by the second, “Purchase? But…Why would you want a gladiator? You’re not a lanista”.  
“No, I am not. Yet, I have many vested interests in shipping, books and services, this shop…And young Vettius and his ludus”, Tullius added, as Vettius came to stand right behind him with that smug obnoxious smirk he always wore. Also, one of Tullius’ slaves moved forward, closer to Batiatus, way too close for his comfort.  
“Look at the little fuck, now”, the little prat sneered, “About to shit himself”. “Still your tongue”, Tullius reprimanded his underling, the addressed the older lanista, handing him a coin purse, “Two hundred denarii. A generous offer, in respect of your father”.  
Batiatus knew what he was about to say would only worsen his situation, but he would not back down all the same, “Apologies. I will not part with the man”, he stated. Tullius’ pretense of politeness slipped away like water on a window pane, “I allow you to purchase one of my slaves, yet, now you deny me the same opportunity?”.  
“Gannicus is not for sale”, Quintus confirmed proudly: he would pay for it, he knew, but to the fuck with it: he was Quintus Lentulus Batiatus and he would not grovel in front of anyone!  
“Everything is for sale, Batiatus”, Tullius hissed, “The question is but price”, he added, then he stepped back and one of his slaves slashed the throat of Batiatus’ own slave open, while the others grabbed the lanista, threw a cloth bag on his head and dragged him in a secluded alley which opened directly on a view of the new arena still to be finished. There they proceeded to beat him bloody with some enthusiastic help from Vettius and when Tullius deemed it to be enough, he had the cloth bag removed from Batiatus’ head.  
“I make fair offer”, the merchant said, “And you produce cock to piss on me. You know what that feels like, Batiatus?“, he then took out his own sad manhood and illustrated the feeling by urinating on poor Batiatus’ face, “Reconsider your answer, or be excluded from the games forever”. After that, he and his lackeys went back to the shop, leaving the lanista half-dead on the ground in the chill of the night.  
888888888888  
The very next morning, when Batiatus was brought back home by a slave and word of his injuries had reached Flamina’s ears, she ran to his house with a big jar of healing balm and took it upon herself to nurse him back to health like a devoted little sister. He spent a week confined to bed, slipping in and out of consciousness and the evening of the eight day, he woke up and took advantage of a moment of solitude to slip out of it and put his clothes on.  
As if on cue, Lucretia, Flaminia and Gaia came into the room and his wife quickly moved to his side. “Why are you from bed?”, she asked him, worried, “The medicus gave instructions for you to rest!”. He scoffed, “A week upon my back was his advice. Well heeded”, he added, grunting in pain as the cloth brushed against the bruise on his side, “More and me and my cock will forget how to stand”.  
Flaminia chuckled at that, “Well, if he can snark, he is surely better”, she commented, “Tullius will pay for this, Quintus. This I promise you”. The matrona frowned, “Don’t encourage him!”, she berated her young friend, then turned to Diona and Naevia, “Bring some wine”. Gaia grinned, “Well, I always follow the wine”, she said, excusing herself. When she was well out of earshot, Batiatus huffed, “Has she not found some fool’s bed to fall to yet, instead of drinking us dry?”.  
“She has been a great comfort”, his wife replied, “Who do you think dried my tears, when my husband was returned to me bloodied and broken?”. “I live”, he said, then smiled warmly to Flaminia, “And I owe it to you too, dearest. You truly are a blessing to this house”. “I only did what any true friend would have”, she said, smiling back. He nodded, then took a small mirror from the table to look at his face and grimaced as he saw how badly the beating had reduced him.  
“I will bring word to the magistrate about it”, Lucretia promised. “Word? To what end?”, he said. “Quintus?”. “He’s a puppet. What help can Sextus offer, when the man who grieved me holds his strings?”. She knew where he was going and didn’t like it, “Tullius has always been a favored son of Capua. I can’t believe him capable of doing such a thing”.  
“I can”, Flaminia shot back, “Favored son my ass, he’s a piece of shit! Look at what he did to Quintus! Retribution is needed”. “Do not speak like this”, the matron begged, “We cannot afford to…”. “Let me take care of it, friend”, the younger woman smiled reassuringly, taking her hands in her own, “I will make sure that nothing can lead to you, or to me for that matter. I will find a way”. “Sleep on it. It’s all I ask”. “As you wish. I will do nothing before the night has passed”.  
“And you will spend it here, I trust?”, Batiatus said, “The hour is too late to let you leave on your own and our house is your house, you know this”. “I am not alone, Kerovas is with me”, she reminded him, “But I accept your hospitality with pleasure”.  
Before retiring for the night, they walked together to the room where the busts of the previous champions of House of Batiatus rested, to relish the thought that one day, Quintus’ own men would join the champions of his father and grandfather, when Solonius was allowed into the room, bringing an amphora of fine wine.  
Batiatus smiled happily at his old friend, “Ah, good Solonius! Welcome!”. “Batiatus, it lifts the heart to see you on your feet again. And I have what is needed to celebrate”. “There is little to celebrate”, the dominus of the house sighed, “I’m excluded from the games. But gratitude for the gift, it’s well received”.  
Solonius bit his lower lip guiltily, “I claim only its delivery”, he admitted, “He’s willing to see his bid for Gannicus doubled. If accepted, it will grant your men strong position in the upcoming games of the Vinalia”. Batiatus narrowed his eyes, unable to believe his own ears, “This wine is from Tullius?!?”.  
“I did not seek him out”, the other man tried to defend himself, distancing himself slightly from Flaminia, who was glaring daggers at him. “But you bring his gift and his words”, she accused him. “I just…”, he turned to Batiatus, “He approached me in the market square, expressing regret that his business with you went to excess. He even paid for the wine that I selected for you. A gesture of good will”.  
Batiatus pursed his lips in rage and stepped closer to his old friend, pointing to the bruises marrying his face, “Do you see these marks upon me?”. “I just…”. “Do you FUCKING SEE them?!?”. “I see them”. “That is man's true gesture, the only to be considered!”, he shouted, slamming the amphora against the wall, where it shattered in a thousand pieces, “You counsel to suck the cock that pisses on me!”.  
“I merely counsel reason”, Solonius replied, “As your father would”. “And what, I wonder, does good Solonius receive for convincing me to spread cheeks and accept deeper ramming?”. “I would get a position in the games”, the other man confessed. “Ah. You are in a remarkable condition to suggest me reflection”.  
“Refuse Tullius’ offer and I join you in exclusion from the arena”. Flaminia frowned, “He threatened you too?”. “With exacting clarity”. “Then he will pay for this slight as well. I will leave you to think of something. See you in the morning, Quintus. Goodnight, good Solonius”, she bowed and left, seething: that bastard would pay dearly for his gall, she swore to Mars. She would make sure of it.


	9. Vengeance and scolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batiatus is not a man to let a slight go unpunished…Unless it comes from his own father

When morning came, Lucretia and Gaia walked to the market square, while Flaminia moved quickly to intercept Vettius. She spotted the brat, flanked by two scrawny slaves, and waved, “Good Vettius!”, she called cheerfully, approaching, “What pleasant coincidence!”. He shot her a suspicious look, but smiled back, “Flaminia, beautiful and radiant as ever, I see”.

“Oh, flatterer. What brings you to the market today? Are you looking for some quality weapons for your ludus?”. “No, I am to meet Varus...”. “Why, me too! He wants father to make a bronze bust in honor of his ancestor. One of his slaves came to my house bringing word that he intends to discuss business in the new arena”. He frowned, “The new arena? Why?”.

She shrugged, “He didn’t say it, but he gave me note indicating a shortcut. Will you come with me? My satelles is unwell and I…I do not feel at ease at walking the streets alone”, she added, looking fragile and defenseless in her tight-fitting creamy white dress. Vettius’ smile widened, “With pleasure”, he said, already salivating at the thought of having her alone and vulnerable in a quiet place, away from prying eyes, “Lead the way”.

She nodded and led him through the streets, until they reached a secluded empty alley. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked around, frowning, “Where are we going?”. Flaminia bit her lower lip, confused and showed him the piece of parchment, “I…I don’t understand, this is not road to the new arena, but it makes no sense…I followed instructions on the note, see?”.

Before he could open his mouth again, a cloaked figure came from a nearby alley and grabbed the young woman by the waist, pressing a hand on her mouth and dragging her away kicking and screaming, while two more men killed Vettius’ slaves and then brutally beat him like he had done with Batiatus and to complete the work, one of them pissed on him, laughing.

“You are at my mercy, now”, a low, smooth voice purred in Flaminia’s ear, sending a warm shiver through her and making her lower belly burn with desire. “And what do you plan to do with me?”, she asked, turning her head to look into her assailant’s dark eyes. “Hmmm. An interesting question”, he joked, giving her that heart-melting smile of his, “One that requires careful consideration”.

“Well, you could hold me a bit tighter, maybe”, she suggested, basking in the feeling of his strong, sculpted body pressed against her own. “I would hurt you”. “I’m tougher than I look”. He chuckled at that, “Oh, I know it well! And no doubt, Barca remembers it too”, he added and they laughed together. “Do not let me go”, she whispered, oblivious to the muffled shouts and whimpers of pain coming from Vettius.

“I never said I intended to”, Ashur replied, his hands moving from her waist to her thighs in a soft caress, “Until they call upon us, you are in my hands”. “Then I hope it will take them forever to beat that cock-sucking child into a bloody and shitty pulp”, she said, bending an arm back to stroke his cheek, “He deserves all of it. And Tullius will follow, as soon as I have a good plan ready”.

The young man grinned, “You are quite the schemer, I see”. “Oh, you have seen nothing yet”. “Beautiful, cunning and dangerous…I like it”, he murmured, placing gentle small kisses on the sensitive shell of her ear and she arched into him with a soft moan. Unfortunately, Indus poked his head into their hiding place, “We must go!”, he whispered urgently and Ashur let her go with obvious reluctance.

“Is he out cold?”, she asked the Macedon. “Completely”, he nodded, snickering. “Good. Go back to your place, I will go to mine. And remember, not a word on this with anyone”. They all nodded and Ashur, Indus and Dagan went back to Batiatus’ ludus, while she waited for them to be far enough not to be connected to the aggression.

She counted silently to five hundred, then she ripped her luxurious dress, inflicted some heavy blows upon her legs and messed up her hair, so that her claim of having been attacked by a stranger would hold when Tullius would accuse her of being behind the aggression along with Batiatus.

She gave herself a final look in a puddle to make sure she looked as bad as she should and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Help! Help me!”.

Her cry had the desired effect and a handful of people came running, only to find her bruised, trembling and weeping and Vettius unconscious on the ground. “What happened?”, one of the citizens asked.

“We…We were attacked”, she stammered, “I was nearly…Thank Mars I managed to free myself enough to shout, or he would have…”, she broke down in tears and those caring people took it upon themselves to bring Vettius to Tullius’ shop, while three of them led Flaminia back to her house.

She leaned on the nearest man, sniffling and whimpering, but inside she was extremely pleased with herself: everything had gone according to her plan. By now, Quinctilius Varus would no doubt be on his way to Batiatus’ house and with his support, her friend’s men would get a position in the opening games of the new arena, despite Tullius’ wishes.

And as a bonus, she had been in Ashur’s arms, even if not for long and had convinced Quintus to have Ashur and Indus face the test, instead of them being granted the Mark of the Brotherhood as a reward for the task, because having her recruits obtain it by cheating would have been a stain on her honor. She felt grateful to Mars for all they had achieved that day: his blessing was no doubt upon them all and with his favor, nobody could stand in their way.

Nobody.

888888888888

That evening, it turned out that her scheme had worked even better than expected, for Varus, after having Gannicus ‘perform’ before his eyes with Melitta, granted him a position in the primus of the next games.

Of course, Melitta was heart-broken over having been forced to lie with her best friend and most of all, having taken pleasure in it and Gannicus in turn felt broken at being the indirect cause for her distress, but none of it mattered in the slightest to Batiatus, who celebrated the news having a threesome with Lucretia and Gaia in the candlelight.

When morning came, they decided to have an encore, but as all three of them were naked and having fun, the drapes were roughly shoved aside to reveal the grim face of none other than Titus, Quintus’ father. Poor Quintus froze, “F-father?”, he breathed, his blood turning into ice from the shock. “Gather yourself. I would have words”, Titus said, then turned on his heels and walked to the study, leaving the son to hastily scramble to his feet and dress, while Gaia giggled like a schoolgirl.

The paterfamilias sat at the desk and sifted through the documents, his face even grimmer than before and did not bother to look up when Quintus walked in and stood in front of the desk. The silence stretched uncomfortably for a long moment, until he finally spoke, “I leave this house in your care and this is what greets me upon return”, he berated the younger man, still not looking at him.

“I was not expecting your arrival”. This time he did look up and his son wished he hadn’t, “Am I to announce myself to the walls that I own?”. “Of course not, yet, if I had known of your return from Sicilia…”. “The knowledge would have produced what result?”, the old man grumbled, “Flowers and scented oils laid to meet me? Masking sight of a son gone to shit?”.

“I but celebrate!”. “Upon what cause? Angering Tullius with refusal of a reasonable offer? Your exclusion from the games?”. Quintus frowned, “How did you come by that?”. Titus rose from his seat, “I’m old, Quintus, **not** dead”. Unfortunately not, his son couldn’t help thinking.

“There are still those in Capua that hold my name in regard and will see me well informed. Good Solonius counted among them”. “Solonius?”, the younger man repeated, surprised and irritated by the betrayal of his old friend. “He sent word of his concerns regarding your dealings with Tullius”. “The man is seized by unnecessary worry”, Quintus tried to say, but his father didn’t buy it. “Your face suggests otherwise”.

He shook his head, “Minor disagreement”, he said, hoping to minimize. “ **Nothing** with a man such as Tullius is ever minor!”, Titus growled, walking around the desk to place himself behind his son, “A fact oblivious to those of lesser mind”. “Then it’s a blessing that a greater mind than mine has arrived!”, Quintus snapped, clenching his fists in anger.

His father sighed and moved to the balcony, leaning on the rail, “My frustration is more with myself: you never wished for this, the ludus, gladiators, the blood, the sand…Your eyes were always towards the horizon”, he said, turning back to look at the younger man, “To glories and triumphs forever out of reach of a common lanista”.

Quintus pursed his lips, “Yet here I stand. A lanista, like my father”, he said with a mixture of anger and resignation. “Not like him at all”, Titus shot back, apparently blind to the humiliation he was inflicting on his son, “You have never been able to look into the eyes of a man and gage his true heart”.

“Only days past, I looked into the eyes of Quintilius Varus and gauged way to secure primus in his games!”, Quintus replied proudly. Titus frowned, taken aback, “Varus has never appointed lanista not approved by Tullius. Why now break tradition?”, he asked suspiciously. “Because I possess what Tullius does not: Gannicus”.

“Gannicus?”, he let out a disbelieving laugh, “The man is a jest, inciting more laughter than awe! Now I find he is desired by half of Rome?”, he shook his head, incredulous. “Much has changed in your absence”. “And much has remained the same”, he spat, “I would review my men, see how well they fared denied proper guidance”. Quintus watched him leave the study, feeling twenty years older all of a sudden and with a resigned sigh, followed his father to the ludus.


	10. Arranged marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flaminia receives very unpleasant news. But she already knows how to turn the not-so-ideal situation to her advantage.

Meanwhile, Flaminia was brushing her hair, basking in the light of the morning sun coming from the window, when a young female house slave knocked on the door to her room. “Dominus and domina are back, young domina”, the slave announced. “Parents are back? About time!”, Flaminia hurriedly put her jewels on and ran to the entrance of the house, “Father, mother, welcome back”, she greeted them.

“Daughter, what joy to see you again!”, Janus was beaming, “The Gods have blessed us, we have wonderful news!”. “The Senate accepted your offer to supply the army, then?”, the Roman young woman asked eagerly.

“Yes and no: senator Albinius granted me the sole right to supply the men of legatus Glaber, but not the entire army”. “Oh. Well, it’s good deal all the same: it will increase our fortune so much…”, her eyes shone as she mentally calculated how much money they would make thanks to that new deal.

“But there is one condition”, her father added and her attention snapped back to reality. “Condition?”. He nodded, clearly overjoyed, “He wants you to become his wife. Isn’t it magnificent news? You will become wife of senator! This will elevate the social status of House Lutatius to the heavens...You remember senator Albinius, don’t you?”. he asked her then, mistaking his daughter’s horrified silence and vacant stare for lack of recognition.

She nodded, of course she remembered. She remembered that he was at least a decade and a half older than her father, with flabby cheeks and an obnoxious condescending smile perpetually fixed on his face, expressing without words his contempt for the ‘inferior people’ around him.

And then there was his daughter, Ilithyia, a bitch older than herself who had the same smile and manners as the father, but with a good measure of sluttiness thrown in as well. “Good, good. We will leave for Rome after lunch, you will get married there. Do you have any questions?”. “No, father”, Flaminia lied.

In truth, she **did** have a question, namely she wanted to know why her father had decided to sell her to that disgusting, smug old lecher without even consulting her first, but she knew the answer: he was the paterfamilias and she was submitted to his authority, so he had no need to ask for her opinion. She would do as she was told and that was all.

“You can retire to your room now”. “Yes, father”, she bowed her head and left, closing the door to her room behind herself. As soon as she was alone, she grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it against the wall with a furious roar, bitter tears flowing on her cheeks.

Hurried steps came from the corridor and Kerovas’ voice came from the doorway, “Domina, what happened?”, he asked, but seeing her tears, he didn’t wait for an answer and took her in his arms comfortingly. “Father wants me to become the wife of senator Albinius”, she sobbed, hiding her face against his strong chest.

“Senator Albinius? The old man we met when we were in Rome two months ago?”. “Yes. I will have to give myself to man I hate and I’m forbidden to even take the hand of man who is always in my thoughts”. His heart clenched in pity for her, but he knew there was nothing that could be done to avoid that, “At least he is rich and powerful. Your family will gain better position in society with your marriage”.

“And to obtain it, I only have to spread my tights like whore”, she snapped, brusquely freeing herself from his embrace as her eyes burned with rage, “What good is to me being born free woman, if I’m to be sold like a slave?”. He just looked at her in silence, he had no answer to that question.

At length, the young woman sighed and averted her eyes, “Apologies. I had no right to take it out on you”. “No need for apologies, sister”, he reassured her, stroking her hair tenderly, “Your anger is justified”. “But it won’t get me anywhere and it won’t change the state of things”, she sat on the bed and drummed her fingers on the covers, thinking, “My soon to be husband is a senator, so he has riches and influence, right?”. “Yes”.

“And after marriage, his riches and influence will be mine as well”. Kerovas blinked, perplexed, “It’s likely, yes. What is on your mind?”. “I can use that power to help Quintus climb the social ladder: he will be friends with the wife of a senator, that will make other influential people flock to him like bees to honey”, she replied, “He will rise in status and when he finally reaches the Senate, he will have no need for the ludus anymore. Then I will buy Ashur from the ludus and give him freedom”.

“All of the things you are planning will take time to be done”. “Good plans always take time, but it’s worth it. I will do everything with care, think everything through as best I can and if you help me, I will have the certainty that my plan will be perfect. First things first, though: I need you to bring me the most capable whore you can find. Coin is not a problem”.

He stared at her, baffled, “What in Jupiter’s name do you need whore for?”. “Just do it, I’ll explain later. Please”, she added with a smile and Kerovas bit his lower lip. “All right”, he said at length, then he made a small bow and left to carry out his task.

When he came back, he had a scantily clad woman well into her fifties in tow and his reluctance in allowing her into his mistress’ room was evident. “Domina, I have the...Person...You requested”, he announced and noticed with some surprise that a younger male slave was sat on a chair, “What is he doing here?”.

Flaminia stood with a wide smile, “You brought her? Excellent! Gratitude, Kerovas, you can go now”. “Domina, why is he here?”, he asked again, pointing to the other man. “Mh? Oh, I need him to practice”.

“WHAT?”, her bodyguard sputtered, eyes widening in shock. “She will use him to show me how to please a man and then I will try and do the same”, the Roman girl explained without missing a beat, “Why so surprised?”.

“You...You will bed a slave?”. “Of course not!”, she made a face, offended, “I will only use my hands, nothing else. You”, she turned to the prostitute, “Get to work. And you”, she addressed the younger male slave, “Undress and lay down on the carpet”.

The older woman, who went by the ‘stage name’ of Messalina, arched an eyebrow, “And coin?”. “When you’re finished. Or I can slit your throat here and now, if you prefer”, the domina said in a velvety tone. That put an immediate end to the discussion and the prostitute set to her task without another word, while Flaminia knelt close to them and observed carefully.

Kerovas felt his stomach churn with disgust at the sight, “Fla-Domina...You can’t...”. “I must learn this skill, if I want to submit my husband. His desire for me must be so strong that he will be willing to do anything I ask”, her lips curved in a dangerous, predatory smile, “He will become slave to my touch and I will be in full control of riches and power. And when he is not useful anymore...”.

He shot a worried look at the two on the carpet and unexpectedly took the Roman girl’s arm, making her stand, “You should not speak so in front of people you can’t trust, it’s dangerous, What if the whore goes out and tells the wrong person about it?”, he whispered, but she merely shrugged. “Who said she would leave the room?”, she asked nonchalantly.

His blood ran cold at those words, “You...You want to...”. “Yes. Now stop distracting me, brother, I have important lesson to learn”, she gently freed herself from his grasp and went back to observing the ministrations of the older woman, which were clearly having their effect on the younger man, as his breathing was becoming increasingly quicker and heavier and soft moans escaped his lips.

It was clear that Messalina was trying to make it last as long as possible, her hands moving over his body with practiced ease born of decades of experience. Flaminia tilted her head to the side, “You don’t limit your touch to cock. Why?”, she asked, honestly curious.

The other woman smiled, “Man can be pleased in many ways, domina”, she answered, “See how he reacts to **this**?”, she added as the young man arched his back with a louder moan. “Interesting. Go on”. “Domina”.

At that point, Kerovas decided that he had seen more than enough and swallowing down his nausea, he said curtly, “Domina, may I go?”. “Yes, gratitude for help”, his mistress answered without bothering to look up.

Three hours later, he was called back to her room and he found Messalina dead on the floor: her face was blue, her eyes bloodshot and her neck sported the unmistakable signs of a rope. Flaminia smiled at him as though nothing was wrong, “Ah, you’re here, good. Help me get rid of the whore”.

He froze on the threshold, horrified, “I...I didn’t think you would do it for real. Where is Marcus?”, he asked, suddenly worried about the younger man’s fate. “He’s fine, don’t worry: he is loyal to me, so I have no reason to kill him. Now, help me bring her out of the house”, the Roman woman repeated, pointing to the corpse.

He had little choice but to take the limp, lifeless body up and follow his mistress along the corridor and out into the inner courtyard. “Put her down, I will burn her”. “Yes, domina”. “Oh, don’t look so glum, she was only whore! I learned all I needed to know and she heard me say I would have my husband killed, so I couldn’t let her go, could I?”. “No, domina”.

She sobered and took his hands in hers, “I only did what I had to. Please, don’t be mad at me. I need you, you know this”, she said in all honesty, “Please, brother, tell me you’re not mad at me”.

The young man searched her face for a long moment, seeing only affection and worry in her eyes and sighed, “I am not mad at you, sister. And I will always be with you, by your side, no matter what comes”. She smiled happily and hugged him, “Gratitude. I love you, Kerovas”. “I love you too, Flaminia”.


	11. A pleasant surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of her marriage, Flaminia meets someone she did not dare hope to find so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created an original character for the role of Nasir’s dominus: Marcus Claudius Septimius, a rich silk merchant living in Neapolis.  
> I also altered the timeline so that Nasir only spent five years as a slave, instead of most of his life. In my timeline, he was captured and sold into slavery at the age of 12.

In the house of senator Albinius in Rome, Kerovas peeked into his domina’s room and Flaminia smiled at seeing him. “Ah, Kerovas, come in”, she said, putting her lapislazuli earrings on, “I’m nearly ready”.

He smiled back, admiring her with the quiet pride of an older brother, “This dress suits you”, he commented, gesturing to the blue flowing gown that softly hugged her curves. “Glad to hear it, but even if it made me look like whore, I still couldn’t change it: father chose it”.

“Ah”. “Yes”, she sighed, her good humor vanishing, then she stood, “Well, no reason to linger here. Let’s go”. He offered her his arm and she took it gratefully, but as they walked side by side along the corridor, she suddenly stopped. “Flaminia? What’s wrong?”, he asked her, worried.

“I can’t do it”, she whispered, holding onto him as her eyes filled with tears, “I can’t marry him, I can’t…Give myself to him!”, she looked up at him and he felt his heart clench in pity at seeing the despair in her gaze, “Help me!”.

“Sister, you know I would do anything for you, but I fear that…”, he trailed off as inspiration hit him, “I think I have idea”. “I’m listening”. “After marriage, make sure to get him drunk. Then blow out the torches in your bedroom, so that he won’t be able to see anything”. “He will find me anyway”, she said, disgust dripping from her voice, but Kerovas grinned.

“Who said it will be you to join him in bed? Send him a whore: stone drunk and in complete darkness, he will never notice”. The young woman mulled over it for a moment, then smiled with relief, “Yes, that is good plan. Gratitude, brother”, she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek, “I knew I could count on you”. “Always”.

888888888888

The marriage was celebrated in front of many senators and some of the noblest families of the republic also attended to the ceremony, a fact that lifted Flaminia’s spirit a good deal, since the bonds she would forge now would come in handy later to help Batiatus rise in status.

She spent the biggest part of the day sinking her fangs into the flesh of as many influential people as possible, be them nobles, senators or simply lazy idiots with a full purse and her enchanting smiles and silver tongue won their interest and in many cases, also what passed for friendship among those of their kind.

All the while, behind her friendly and cheerful facade, she was weighting their status and riches to assess how useful they could be to her schemes. Kerovas, who knew her like the back of his own hand, noticed the calculating, predatory look in her eyes and shuddered: ever since the Syrian recruit entered the picture, his little sister had become increasingly ruthless in the pursuit of her goal to free him and he didn’t like it one bit.

She met his eyes and her smile turned warm and genuine as she approached him, “You should not look so glum, brother”, she whispered, “It’s marriage, not funeral”. “At least you seem to be in good spirits, sister”.

“Why shouldn’t I be? I gained many influential friends today. And an equally influential son-in-law”, she added, shooting a quick look at Ilithyia’s husband, legatus Gaius Claudius Glaber, a handsome young man with aristocratic features whose cold blue eyes reminded her of a ferocious bird of prey, “I need you to provide me with...Means...To survive the night”, she added, discretely passing Kerovas a heavy coin purse.

“And what will be of the woman afterwards?”, he asked, a hint of reproach in his voice. “Same thing that happened to the other one”. “Then I won’t...”. “You **will** ”, she hissed, her lips twisting in a snarl, “I need your help and you promised I could always count on you. Or was it a lie?”. “It wasn’t, but you’re asking me to...”. “I’m asking you to help me avoid being raped”, she cut him off.

That word felt like a punch to the guts and he realized he had no choice, “All right. I will bring her to your room after sunset”. She relaxed and smiled softly, “Good. Gratitude, brother. And now I’ll go back to finding some more steps for our ladder”, she excused herself, going back to entertaining the guests.

Thanks to a stroke of good luck, among the guests was also Marcus Claudius Septimius, an old and wealthy silk merchant from Neapolis, accompanied by his body slave Tiberius, a young man of less than average height with dark eyes, olive skin and long dark hair and when Flaminia’s eyes fell on him, she immediately noticed he was a Syrian, like her beloved.

“Say, Tiberius, where were you born?”, she asked, giving him a real kind smile. “I was born in Syria, domina”, he answered in perfect Latin, “But I have been living in Neapolis for the last five years”. “I see. Do you recall anything about your early years?”.

Marcus scoffed, “What does it matter?”, he asked sharply, then remembered who he was talking to and hastily added, “Apologies, but I do not think personal history of slave is interesting subject for woman such as you”. She narrowed her eyes and gave him the glare of his lifetime, “And yet, it is of interest to me. Or do you claim to know my mind better than myself?”, she hissed. “No, no, of course not, apologies”.

“Good”, she then turned back to ‘Tiberius’ and smiled again, “So, do you have any memories of your life before Neapolis?”. The young man hesitated, unsure of how much he was allowed to say, “I remember having an older brother who took care of me, domina”. Her heart skipped a beat, “What is his name?”. “It is Ashur, domina”.

She sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mars and barely managed to conceal her joy at hearing that name, “Ashur. It has quite pleasant sound to it”, she said, then turned to the merchant, “You know, good Marcus, I have been looking for new house slave lately, but all those who have been shown to me did not convince me, their minds were too slow for my tastes. Young Tiberius, on the other hand, seems quite intelligent and speaks our language perfectly. I would like to purchase him”.

The merchant frowned, “Apologies, but I do not wish to part with him”, he stated. Her fake friendly smile turned into a dangerous smirk, “I fear you misunderstood meaning, good Marcus: it was **not** question. I want this young man and I **will** have him. Or are you refusing to do business with my family?”. ‘Tiberius’ shot a worried look at this dominus, it was clear that he feared what this woman could have in store for him.

For his part, Marcus clenched his teeth in frustration and rage: he had grown quite fond of his body slave/sex toy and he did not want to hand him over, but he knew full well that he had no choice. Refusing would mean being on the bad side of senator Albinius’ wife and so, indirectly, being also on senator Albinius’ bad side, a position that nobody wanted to find themselves in.

“So, good, Marcus, what is price for young Tiberius?”, Flaminia asked, her eyes shining with a sadistic light as she delighted in his anger and humiliation. “Ten denarii”, the old man finally answered.

“And ten denarii it is”, she took the money out of the coin purse at her belt and handed it to him, “Now let us write down contract to make purchase official, shall we? Oh and Tiberius, what is your birth name, do you remember it?”. “I...Yes, it was Nasir, domina, but...”.

“Then Nasir is what I will call you from now on”, she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling softly, “Fear not, Nasir, I have no ill intentions towards you. I give you my word that I will protect you from harm and take care of you the best I can”.

He saw only warmth and kindness in her eyes as she looked at him and that reassured him enough to smile back, “Gratitude, domina”. “You will like living in Capua, I am sure of it. Now, do you see that tall, dark-skinned man by the door?”, she asked, pointing towards her bodyguard, who was about to leave for his ‘secret mission’, “His name is Kerovas and he’s my satelles. Inform him that you are now part of my house and he will help you get anything you need”. “Yes, domina, gratitude”.

888888888888

When night came, senator Albinius closed the door to the nuptial room with an eager smile, “Now, my beautiful wife, it is time for you to became mine”, he said. “Of course, but first, we must celebrate this blessed day with some wine, don’t you agree?”, Flaminia smiled back and poured him a goblet of strong wine, to which she had previously mixed all of the opium contained in the vial she had been gifted by Gaia.

Her eyes shone cruelly, as she silently sent a prayer of thanks to Mars for her friend’s unhealthy habits: such an amount of that substance, combined with the alcohol, was guaranteed to send the old lecher into delirium quickly, just as she wanted.

The senator accepted the wine and drank it slowly, savouring every drop, “Delicious. As I am sure your flesh will be”, he added, stroking her arm, but she stepped away to blow the torches out. “You will not be disappointed, husband”, she promised, “But I am shy and I prefer for us to become one in the darkness, if you do not mind”. “Well, I would rather gaze upon your naked body, but I suppose I can grant your request for this night”.

“Gratitude”, she smiled to herself and taking advantage of the complete darkness in the room, she opened the door a fraction and let the prostitute in, “Let us not speak anymore, dear husband: let us allow our bodies to do the talking, what say you?”. Albinius was more than happy to agree, “As you wish, wife. Come here”.

She unceremoniously shoved the other woman forward and slipped out of the door, locking it behind herself with a feeling of triumph: she had escaped his clutches and he would be so drunk and dizzy that he would not realize having been tricked. And next morning, she would leave for Capua to take care of her father’s business in the city for him, so she would be safe from her husband’s disgusting attentions.

All was going well.


	12. An unpleasant surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Capua, Flaminia meets someone she had hoped to not see again anytime soon

First thing Flaminia did upon being back to Capua was going to visit Quintus’ ludus, bringing Nasir along as she couldn’t wait to reunite him with his brother, but at Batiatus’ home she found two nasty surprises: first of all, Titus Batiatus had come back to the city and was once again in charge of the ludus.

Worse than that, he had made a deal with Tullius against his son’s wishes, a deal which excluded Gannicus from the primus and even allowed Tullius to pick Quintus’ gladiators who would fight in the matches in the small arena that same day.

“Why did you do this, Titus?”, she asked the old man, incensed, while she, Titus and Quintus, along with Kerovas and Nasir, walked to the arena, “Gannicus **earned** that position! His fighting prowess impressed even magistrate Sextus!”. Titus snorted, “Gannicus is not a champion, not like my own!”.

“But…”, she gritted her teeth, trying to suppress her fury: he was just like her own father, an old, fucking bossy piece of shit, too weak to do anything but kneel before those more powerful than himself and allow them to ram their cock in his ass! Neither she, nor Quintus would ever be truly free to rise above their current position and get what they wanted, as long as these two useless relics of times gone by were in charge of their lives.

“I am the paterfamilias and the ludus belongs to me”, he stated, “I have neither the time nor the will to discuss this matter further”. With those final words, Titus went to take a seat in the viewing box along with magistrate Sextus, Varus, Tullius and Vettius, while his son, Flaminia, Nasir and Kerovas took place in the front row among the commoners.

“It’s disgusting”, she commented, “How could he just throw away all that you had gained?”. Quintus sighed, “Quite easily, as he always does”. “And which gladiators were graciously allowed to fight today?”. “Barca against Gnaeus and Crixus against Auctus”.

“So one of your men will face one of your father’s. This is good: when the Gaul prevails, Titus will have to acknowledge that you are indeed capable lead for the ludus”. “I pray for such an outcome, but he would sooner cut off his tongue, that have words of approval for me”, he said bitterly, his shoulders slumping a bit.

“Rid your mind of unpleasant thoughts now, friend: the fight between Gnaeus and Barca is about to begin. And do not despair, for Mars is on our side”. He bit his lower lip, hit by a sudden thought, “There is something I must do”, he said, quickly walking out of the row and taking the corridor that led to the basement of the arena and to the room where the fighters waited for their turn.

He elbowed his way among the poorer audience, who couldn’t afford a place in the row and as soon as he caught sight of his recruit, he called, “Crixus! A word”. The Gaul obediently walked to his dominus.

”You’ve shown great promise”, Quintus told him, “During practice, in the exhibition against Gannicus, yet this is the arena: this is where men become **gods**. Wages would see you among those who fall upon this sacred ground to spear, but I do **not** think you will be one of them”, he stated and though he kept his voice low, there was an intensity to it that made it mesmerizing, “You have the blood of a **champion** , to rival any of my father’s and overshadow them!”, he placed a hand on the Gaul’s shoulder, “Do you wish to behold such miracle come to pass?”.

Crixus swallowed, “It is all I desire”, he answered in all honesty. “Then seize fucking glory!”, Batiatus exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders, “And see us both proven worthy”. The recruit didn’t reply, but the fire in his eyes was answer enough for the lanista, who smiled and went back to his place in the row, his confidence restored.

888888888888

As was easily predictable, Barca won the fight and was even ready to kill Gnaeus, despite the two of them being both Batiatus’ gladiators, but Varus, who was the patron of the games, decided to let the defeated fighter live in sign of gratitude for all that Quintus’ house had done for him.

The next fight was between Auctus and Crixus, even if the latter was still a recruit and the match was clearly uneven: Auctus wielded the spear, which Crixus was unused to, and had way more experience in the arena.

He managed to strike successfully three times: first hitting the Gaul in the stomach, then in the shoulder, drawing blood and finally, knocking his helmet off and sending him flat on the sand. He lunged for the final strike, but Crixus quickly put the shield between them and the tip of the spear remained stuck in the wood, so that Auctus was unable to remove it.

As he was still struggling, the Gaul cut the spear in two with his sword and at that point, both of them were equipped with a sword each, thus taking away the advantage Auctus had had over his opponent until then and granting Crixus the upper hand in the fight. With a quick thrust that surprised everyone, the younger man plunged his sword into his opponent’s stomach so hard that it peeked out from his back.

The crowd exploded in a roar of approval and Flaminia in particular rejoiced in that victory, for she remembered well Auctus and his bullying and she knew that he had never stopped treating Ashur and the other recruits like pig feed. Titus was shocked, while his son was jubilant. “YES!”, Quintus shouted happily, “YES! You were right, dearest: Mars looks favorably upon my men!”, he told Flaminia, who smiled back. “Of course I was right”.

888888888888

That night, Crixus was given the Mark of the Brotherhood as a reward for his victory and Flaminia insisted to witness it directly from the sand of the ludus, by Quintus’ side and among the gladiators.

With the whole ludus to witness it, the Gaul knelt before his dominus and spoke the sacramentum gladiatorum, “I commit my flesh, my mind, my will to the glory of this ludus and the commands of my master, Batiatus. I swear to be burned, chained, beaten or die by the sword for honor in the arena”.

Batiatus smiled and pressed the red-hot brand with the B on his right forearm, thus marking Crixus officially as a gladiator, “Welcome to the Brotherhood”. The others who bore the Mark moved to welcome their new brother into their ranks, smiling friendly and even Barca congratulated him, despite the pain of his own loss.

Flaminia waited until Quintus was distracted and seized the chance to move beside Ashur, “Your day will come soon”, she told him. “Not soon enough”, he sighed, shaking his head. “Have faith: you will face the Test in two days and when you win, you will be given the Mark as well”. “And if I lose?”.

“You will not lose”, she said simply, “With your training, you are superior to any of these cunts. And I will be here to witness your triumph”. “I could ask for nothing more”, he smiled warmly at her and stroked her face. “And yet, there is something I am sure that...”, she began, but Quintus’ voice startled her. “Flaminia! Come!”. She huffed, “Ah, shit. Well, goodnight, Ashur. Know that my thoughts will be of you”. “And mine of you. Goodnight, Flaminia”.

Meanwhile, Titus was in the study, watching the branding of the new gladiator and when his son joined him, he spoke, “Your Gaul, still yet a recruit, defeated a gladiator I considered among the best of my men”, he said, not sounding particularly happy of it. Quintus did not say a word, instead taking a deep breath and just nodding, for he could feel a scathing reply already on his tongue. “It would appear that I underestimated Crixus. As I did my son”, Titus added, turning to look at the younger man.

“You honor me, father”, Quintus said flatly. “No, you honor yourself. When cleared of plots and schemes”, his father grumbled, leaning on the desk. “Thoughts far removed, never to return”, the son lied, shaking his head. “Nothing pleases more than to see reason take hold of your senses”, Titus moved to stand before his son and grabbed his shoulders, “And the house right its path”. Finally, Quintus smiled, “I would see it continued in your absence”.

At that, his father frowned, “Absence?”. “I assume your return to Sicilia will…”. “No: seeing Crixus’ victory has stirred passions I haven’t felt in many years. The blood and the sand and the roar of the crowd, oh, it lifts spirits! Nothing that change of climate could offer. No, I will stay at your side and together, we shall see the House of Batiatus rise to former glories”.

Quintus felt like he’d just been punched to the guts (a feeling he knew well enough by now, courtesy of Tullius’ lackeys), “You remain here?”, he asked, mentally cursing all the Gods and Goddesses of all the religions everywhere from every era, be it present, past or future. “Until breath leaves weary flesh”, Titus confirmed, laughing and clapping his crestfallen son on the back before going to sleep.

Quintus remained on the balcony, looking at the sand below and trying to find something good in that situation, no matter how small. He couldn’t think of anything.

888888888888

Two days passed by and Flaminia felt her heart hammering in her chest as she finished writing the day’s incomes and expenses in the ledger, her fingers trembling slightly. Kerovas placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’ve made very good profits this last month”, he commented, “Why are you so nervous, sister?”.

“Today is **the** day”, she answered, voice quivering with excitement, “Ashur will face Test and earn Mark of the Brotherhood”. “Ah, of course”, he chuckled, “I should have guessed it was about him. Barely an hour passes by that you’re not thinking of that Syrian”. “He is special. I’ve never met a man like him, he makes me feel so…”.

“Wet?”, he asked with a grin and she gave him a playful shove. “No!”, she exclaimed and blushed as Kerovas arched a skeptical eyebrow, “Well, yes, but that’s not what I wanted to say. He makes me feel safe and at ease, but at the same time my heart beats faster when he’s close and my body feels as if it’s on fire. I care for him and I want him to be happy and free and safe”.

He sobered at that and his eyes clouded with worry, “You truly love him”. “I…I guess I do. I’ve never been in love before, but I suppose this is it”. “It is. May the Gods have mercy on you”. “Why?”. “He’s a slave, sister”, he reminded her, “Even if you free him, do you really think your father will allow you to marry him? Not to mention that you are already married”.

“Oh, my husband will not be a problem by then, trust me. And father…Well, he will just have to accept it”, she shrugged, deciding it would do her no good to share the full extent of her plan with her brother. “He would sooner see you dead, than married to a libertinus”.

She closed the ledger and stood, “We will cross that bridge when we get there. But now, we’d better hurry: I don’t want to lose the moment when my Ashur will defeat one of those cock-sucking cunts and become gladiator!”.

He rolled his eyes and followed her out of the study, “I wish that you would at least refrain from using such foul language”. “Not a fucking chance”, she replied, laughing as he grimaced, “Where is Nasir?”. “I suppose he’s in his room as usual, reading his head off”. “Let us bring him as well: he must be there when his brother earns the Mark”.

888888888888

 ** _Libertinus:_** _a libertinus was a freed slave. In Roman society, slaves who gained freedom were known as_ ‘libertini’ _(but they were known as_ ‘liberti’ _in regards to the dominus who had freed them through the so-called_ manumissio _). Though they were technically considered as citizens, they were barred from politics, just like the women and the slaves. Still, a libertinus could become a merchant or a lanista in their own right. They maintained a connection to their former dominus, who became their ‘_ patronus’ _after granting them freedom and had the right of demanding free labour from them_ (operae) _. The connection also implied a mutual duty of maintenance between patronus and libertus._


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Test has come and Ashur gains more than he had hoped for

As was custom, a wooden stage was raised in the middle of the training ground for the Test and a dozen torches lightened up the courtyard. Much to Flaminia’s delight, Ashur was to go first and his opponent was Rhaskos, one of those who had disrespected her when she had been in the ludus as a ‘rebellious slave’.

Both men were equipped with a round shield and a sword, but Rhaskos was taller and bigger than the Syrian and that led him to think he would win the fight easily. A grin on his lips, he roared and swiped at his opponent’s left side, but Ashur parried with his shield and instead of retaliating in kind, he made a feint to his right, only to then strike to the left, leaving a shallow cut on Rhaskos’ waist and kicked him in the stomach.

The gladiator stumbled back a step and coughed, but quickly straightened and attacked again, this time aiming at Ashur’s throat. The recruit dodged and bent down in a single fluid motion worthy of a snake, then sprung forward and struck with the hilt of the sword as hard as he could, first straight to the stomach and then upwards to the chin, as he had done in his fight against Auctus weeks ago.

Again, Rhaskos stumbled back and the brief moment of dizziness was all that Ashur needed: with a quick move, the Syrian kicked his opponent’s left knee, bringing him down and then slashed at his neck, though he stopped the blade just an inch from the skin and looked up at the balcony, towards his dominus, waiting for instructions.

Both Quintus and Titus were stunned, while Flaminia beamed like sunshine and clapped her hands with a nearly childlike enthusiasm. “Yes! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”, she exclaimed, jumping up and down. Behind her, Kerovas chuckled and shook his head fondly: for all her scheming and plotting, she was still so much a child at heart.

Quintus laughed as well at her antics, “Well, congratulations, dearest: one of your recruits has earned the Mark tonight”, he said, then addressed Ashur, “Let the defeated one live. You have proven yourself worthy of joining the Brotherhood”.

The Syrian lowered his weapon and jumped off of the stage, his head was spinning: he could hardly believe it, he had won and was about to officially become a gladiator! And Flaminia had been there to witness his triumph, just as she had promised him.

He looked up again and met her gaze and she nodded, placing a hand on her heart with a warm smile. Only, his good mood dampened a little as he noticed a young and handsome stranger by her side. Doctore’s voice broke the spell, “Dagan, your turn! Fulco will be your opponent”.

As the two fighters got on the stage, Flaminia practically ran from the balcony to the stairs leading to the ludus, dragging Nasir along by the hand and when she stepped onto the sand, she was not surprised to see Ashur walking towards her, though his expression was dark.

“Flaminia”, he said in a strangely cold tone, bowing his head and glaring daggers at poor Nasir, who, for his part, was smiling happily at him, “I am pleased to see you”. She blinked, taken aback by his sudden hostility, “Is something wrong?”. “No. Nothing”. “I…I come bringing good news”, she stammered, “This is Nasir and…I-I think you already know each other”.

The newly promoted gladiator frowned, “Nasir?”, he repeated, then his eyes widened and he looked at the lad with a mixture of surprise and hope, “Could it truly be…?”. The younger man nodded, radiant with happiness, “It is, brother”. “Little Nasir!”, Ashur beamed and hugged him tightly, tears of pure joy running down his cheeks, “ _My dear, precious little brother_ ”, he added in their native language.

“ _I missed you_ ”, Nasir said, hugging him back, “ _I was so scared when you didn’t come back from the market!_ ”.

“ _I was worried about you too, little brother, not a day passed by that I did not think about you_ ”, his brother replied, observing him carefully and stroking his long hair with a fond smile, “ _I am grateful to the Gods to see you in good health. Last time I saw you, you were barely more than a child and you were ill…_ ”.

“ _The slavers who captured me nursed me back to health during the travel, otherwise I would have been of no use to them. My former dominus made sure I was always well fed and clean and Flaminia has taken good care of me since…_ ”.

The young woman cleared her throat, cutting him off, “Apologies, but since you’re talking about me, I would like to understand words”, she said with a mischievous smile, “Just in case you’re divulging some scandalous secret about me”, she joked and the two men laughed.

“There is nothing scandalous to say about you”, the younger slave told her, “You have taken good care of me and treated me with kindness and respect, as though I were your own brother”. “I always show kindness to those who deserve it”. “And sink fangs in flesh of those who do not”, he added, smirking, “You were quite…Unkind to my former dominus”.

A flash of panic passed in her eyes, “Let us not speak of slavery tonight: you are reunited with your brother and he has become gladiator, we should only care about celebrating”, she said, afraid that the truth about her station could slip past his lips by mistake.

Ashur beamed, “I am in full agreement. But Indus has yet to face Test, so maybe we should wait for him to earn Mark as well”. “Oh, of course! I have brought a small feast composed of wine, fresh fruit, roasted meat and plenty of crustula, by the way, so there will be no shortage of delicacies to enjoy”.

“You are gift from the Gods”, he purred, taking her hand in his and kissing her palm, “Since you came into my life, you brought me more joy than I could ever dream of”. “And you did the same for me”, she said, stroking his cheek. Before they could kiss, Nasir, knowing the truth and not wanting his brother to get in trouble, intervened, “Look, fight is over”.

They all looked at the stage to see Fulco on the sand, clearly having been pushed off the stage by Dagan, who let out a victorious roar. “Another recruit earns the Mark. Now only Indus remains”, Flaminia said, watching as Dagan hopped down the short staircase and Indus climbed up to face his Test, “And I am confident he will succeed as well”.

Indus climbed on the stage with confident steps, even if a small part of him was worried at the prospect of what would happen to him should he fail the Test. His opponent was Duratius, a short and bulky Egyptian gladiator who fought in the murmillo style and was therefore equipped with a big rectangular shield, a sword, a scaled arm guard and a plumed helmet.

“Begin!”, Oenomaus shouted and Duratius moved forward and slashed from left to right, aiming for the Macedon’s throat, but Indus sidestepped and struck at the other man’s unprotected left side, leaving behind a long gash. The gladiator swore loudly and looked at him with murder in his eyes, then struck high and hard.

Indus parried with his sword, letting the other’s blade slide along his own and pushing it to the side to unbalance his opponent and for good measure, he hooked Duratius’ knee with his left foot and struck him in the back with his shield, putting all of his weight in it. The Egyptian lost his footing at that and fell off of the stage in an undignified sprawl, cursing his own Gods quite vehemently.

“Indus is victor!”, Doctore announced and the young Macedon beamed at those words. Batiatus nodded from the balcony, “Indus, you have proven worthy of receiving the Mark of the Brotherhood”, he declared. To Indus’ surprise, the gladiators cheered at his victory and when he climbed off of the stage, they walked up to him and congratulated him with big smiles.

He smiled back, though it was half-hearted as he remembered quite well how badly they had treated him until that very same morning, but his spirits lifted when Ashur called him and he saw that Flaminia was there.

“Flaminia!”, he joined her and the other two men, “It brings me much joy to see you here”. “Of course I am here, I had to witness the two of you becoming gladiators and defeating those fucking cunts”, she replied, “My heart swells with pride at your victories”. “So does mine”, Kerovas said, walking to them with a proud smile, “It is good to see lessons were not wasted on you”.

“Gratitude”, Indus bowed his head to the older man, “I owe you much, Kerovas: without your training, I would not have been able to win fight. I would have likely been sent to mines long ago”. Kerovas grinned, “Then you should thank Gods that our domina ordered me to train you”, he said, clapping the Macedon on the back. “I am, believe me”.

Flaminia frowned, “I-domina would have never let you be sent to mines!”, she protested hotly, “She is not that cruel!”. Ashur and Indus blinked, taken aback by her outburst, but Nasir nodded. “She speaks truth: our domina has kind heart and gentle spirit and she treats all her slaves with respect, as thought they were of Roman blood like herself. Never have I seen her mistreat slave, since I came to live in her house”.

His brother frowned, “How come we never met her, though? Why doesn’t she show face to us?”. “She is not allowed to come to ludus: her father forbade it and as is duty of devoted daughter, she must obey him”, Kerovas answered and at his side, the young woman had to bite her lower lip to keep from laughing. ‘ _Devoted daughter’_ , sure. She shot him a side glance, but her bodyguard was perfectly serious. How the Hell he could manage to say such bullshit while keeping a straight face, she would never know.

A brazier was brought out in the training ground and as was custom, Quintus put the iron brand with the B of his House on the burning coals, “Ashur, Indus, Dagan! Come and receive the Mark”. The Macedon gulped, suddenly scared by the sight of the red-hot brand, but he took his place in line and knelt, extending his right arm with his palm up like the other two men.

Ashur was first and his lips were curved in a joyful smile as he recited the sacred oath, “I commit my flesh, my mind, my will to the glory of this ludus and the commands of my master, Batiatus. I swear to be burned, chained, beaten or die by the sword for honor in the arena”. Quintus nodded and pressed the brand on his forearm, the burning skin making a horrible sizzling sound as the Syrian gritted his teeth to keep from screaming,

“Welcome to the Brotherhood”. “Gratitude, dominus”, Ashur stood, the burn sending shocks of pain through his arm, but as he walked back to his friends, he saw that Flaminia had a small vial in her hand. “I have some healing balm here”, she said as soon as he reached her, “The burn will scar, of course, but this will lessen the pain”. His lips parted in surprise, then his eyes softened, “Your concern warms heart”.

“It’s least I can do”, she opened the jar and took a bit of balm with her fingers, “May I?”. “Please”, he nodded and extended his arm and she applied the poultice with extreme care, trying to spread it on the burn without causing him additional pain. “Done”. “Gratitude, Flaminia”. “You’re welcome”, she said, then she repeated the process for both Indus and Dagan even though the latter was not one of her recruits, because he was Ashur’s friend.

Gannicus approached them with a grin, but his wobbly steps suggested he had once again overindulged with wine, “Good to see you here again, beautiful”, he greeted the young woman. “Gannicus, how fare you?”. “Quite well, gratitude. And better now that I can look upon your beauty”.

“I am flattered, but maybe you should not be here, wasting breath on idle conversation: I think you should be resting and sleeping off your hangover”, she shot back sternly and he pouted. “You wound me! We have new brothers, we must celebrate!”.

“You have celebrated enough for tonight. Go to sleep, Gannicus. This is not advice, this is order”, she added, pointing to his cell, “Go. **Now** ”. The Celt gave her a look that reminded her a lot of a scolded puppy, but at length turned on his heels and sulkily went to his cell, muttering under his breath.

As Gannicus slept off the obscene amount of wine he’d drunk, Ashur, Indus, Dagan and Crixus allowed themselves with the delicious treats that Flaminia had brought for them, generously sharing the feast not only with her, Kerovas and Nasir, but also with the other gladiators as well, to show that they held no grudge against those who were now their brothers.

Ashur smiled to himself as he nibbled on a delicious crustulum and chatted with his friends: finally he was a gladiator and the others would treat him with respect, finally he was a brother among brothers and the ludus was truly his home. And with his little brother Nasir and Flaminia by his side, he could think of nothing more to ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crustulum (pl. crustula): they were biscuits made with spelt flour, eggs, honey, olive oil, cinnamon, orange and lemon peels and a bit of black pepper.


	14. Stepping on the sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashur fights in the arena for the first time after passing the Test

Titus Batiatus was leaning on the rail of the balcony with a frown on his face and his son knew it was not a good sign. “What troubles mind, father?”, Quintus asked, worried. “Flaminia is spending much time in ludus”, the older man answered, turning around, “You should not have allowed her to go down there among slaves”.

His son pressed his lips in a thin line, “She is dear friend and I did not want to deny her such small favor”, he shot back, “And why is it problem? You even shared cup of wine with Oenomaus and he is slave”. “That is different! I am man and owner of this house and of all slaves inside it, she is barely more than child!”.

“She is adult woman and more than capable of making up her own mind”. Titus snorted, “No, she is **not.** You may be too blind to notice, but I saw way she looks at Syrian recruit…Syrian gladiator”, he corrected himself, “She cares for him”. “She cares for Kerovas as well”. “That is not same thing!”.

The younger lanista suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, “All right, father, I will make sure to keep her away from ludus from now on”. “Good. And I want that Syrian to fight in the small arena in next games: with some luck, he will be dead soon and I won’t have to worry anymore about him dishonoring her”.

That was enough to make Quintus clench his fists in anger, “She would never bed slave, even more so now that she is wife of senator! She is not that kind of woman!”, he snapped. Titus was still skeptical, “Let us pray to Gods that you are right, son”.

The following day, Titus sent word to Varus and made arrangements to have Ashur enlisted for a fight in the next games, alongside his countryman Dagan and against two gladiators he knew were extremely dangerous despite fighting in the minor games: Hasdrubal and Kleitos.

He hoped that this would mean getting rid of Ashur once and for all and of course, that it would help in repairing the relationship with Tullius: seeing the House of Batiatus lose a fight may put the merchant in a good enough mood that he would be willing to listen to Titus’ words. Of course, what the older Batiatus had in mind angered his son, but that was a necessary evil.

While the old man was out for a walk, Flaminia visited Quintus and learned of the latest developments and her cheeks paled with fury. “He wants to get Ashur **killed**?”, she growled and Quintus couldn’t help taking a step back, he had never seen her so enraged and it scared him like Hell.

“Unfortunately he does”, he nodded, “He won’t go so far as to kill the man himself, but he will try his hardest to find him most dangerous opponents available”. “Fucking old bastard!”, the young woman swore, “How dare he endanger my…My property? Ashur is **mine**!”. “Not officially: name on his property contract is my own”. “Let us rectify that, then. Here and now”.

“But my father is in charge now…”. “Your father is nothing!”, she roared, “ **You** are only true dominus of this house and **you** are only one really in charge! Now stop arguing and let us sign contract!”. He stared at her, baffled, then nodded slowly, “As you wish, dearest. Come”, he led her to the study and took a parchment, writing down the contract and signing it, before handing it to her.

She signed it as well and finally smiled, her tension dissolving, “Gratitude, Quintus. And apologies for my outburst”. “None needed, I understand better than you think”. “It is relief to hear it. Of course, this must remain secret and officially you will still appear as true owner. Now I must go and take care of family business, but I will join you at small arena for Ashur’s fight”.

888888888888888

Three days later, in the room below the small arena where the gladiators waited for their turn to fight, Ashur was about to put his plumed helmet on, when Oenomaus, who had accompanied him and Dagan, called him. “Ashur, you have visit”. The gladiator blinked, “Who is it?”, he asked and his eyes widened when he recognized the woman walking towards him, “Flaminia? What are you doing here?”.

She smiled warmly, “I was told that you were going to fight in arena for the first time and I wanted to give you something”, she said, then she slipped a hand inside the neckline of her ankle-length ivory dress, unwrapping and slipping from around her breasts a dark blue ribbon, “I cannot come with you onto the sands, but at least I can gift you this token”. He smiled back at her happily, “Gratitude. I will wear it with pride”.

“And I will pray to Mars to grant you victory”, she promised, “May I?”. “Please”, he extended his right arm and she wrapped the ribbon around his forearm, then tied it with a double knot. “Just want to make sure that you won’t lose it”. His smile softened as he twined his fingers with hers and kissed them, “I will fight with tooth and claw before I let anyone take it from me”.

“I look forward to seeing you triumph on the sand”, the young woman caressed his cheek, “You will become great champion, I have no doubts about this”. “Your faith in me warms heart”. “It’s not blind faith: I have seen you holding your own against Kerovas and earning Mark of the Brotherhood by defeating that limp-cocked cunt Rhaskos. My faith is well grounded”. “Flaminia…”.

Before he could say anything else, doctore intervened, “You did what you came here to do. Now it is better for you to leave, fight will begin in a moment”. “Fine, I will be on my way. Ashur, I will be in front row to cheer on you”, she told the Syrian. “I will win for you”, he promised. “Bye”. “Bye”, he kissed her hand one last time and reluctantly watched her leave.

“She seems to mean much to you”, Oenomaus commented. Ashur nodded, “I’ve never met woman like her, she is…Special. So kind-hearted and witty, so beautiful and graceful and strong-willed, like goddess walking among mortals”. “And you are blessed to have her friendship”. “Yes. I am”, he sighed happily. “Come down from clouds and get ready for fight now, or you’ll end up losing head”.

“Yes, doctore”, he put his helmet on and turned to Dagan, “ _Are you ready?_ ”. The other man nodded, a lewd grin on his lips, “ _You are one lucky dog: that delicious little bitch has her cunt soaked wet for your cock_ ”, he commented and was taken aback when his friend’s face twisted with fury. “ _Talk about her in such manner again and I will rip your still beating heart out and feed it to you. **Brother**_ ”, Ashur growled, “ _Is that clear?_ ”. “ _It is_ ”. “ _Good_ ”.

Oenomaus looked from one Syrian to the other, puzzled, “Is there problem?”. “No, doctore, no problem at all”, Ashur answered with a fake smile. “Good. Your swords”, the Numidian handed each of them a gladius, “Now reform my words in manner Dagan understands. You bear the Mark of the Bbrotherhood, an honor you have earned by passing Test”, he said, his words translated flawlessly and with obvious pride.

“Fight with honor and if the Gods will it, die the same”. “ _Die and this fuck will rejoice in our parting_ ”, Ashur said and Dagan smirked. “ _He will celebrate my cock in his ass_ ”. “Dagan says he will honor the house of Batiatus with gifts of blood, as will the mighty Ashur”. Oenomaus nodded, “Go now”.

Both gladiators took a deep breath and when the door opened, they stepped for the first time on the sand of the arena. A thrill ran through Ashur at the thought that now he was a true gladiator, that here was where men became gods and this was his chance to take the first step towards such heights.

He looked the opponents up and down, trying to evaluate their strengths and their weaknesses and his keen eyes noticed that while the spear-wielding one was way too healthy for his likings, the one wielding the securis seemed to favor his right leg and to avoid putting too much of his weight on the left. A smirk curved his lips: that was definitely something to exploit.

Hasdrubal didn’t waste any time and charged forward with a high diagonal slash of his securis from left to right that was intended to cut Ashur’s head off, but the young Syrian was quick to bend and sidestep to the left, sliding from under the other man’s blade like a serpent and at the same time, landing a vicious kick at his opponent’s left ankle. As Hasdrubal lost his balance, Ashur slashed at his unprotected side, the gladius biting deep into the flesh and opening a long gash that immediately started to bleed.

Meanwhile, Dagan was fighting Kleitos, deflecting his spear with the shield and moving forward to try and land a blow of his own. After three failed attempts, he lost his patience and slammed the shield right in his opponent’s face, then took advantage of Kleitos’ moment of dizziness to disarm him with a hard blow to the arm and slash savagely at his chest with the gladius, managing to cut his arm off with one lucky strike.

As Kleitos fell on his back onto the sand and was impaled with a sword through the chest, Hasdrubal regained his footing and moved for an attack on the right side. Ashur was ready, though: he parried the blow easily and keeping his shield before himself, he charged forward like a bull slamming his opponent against the wooden wall, incidentally right below the place where Flaminia stood, then he lowered the shield and thrust his gladius into Hasdrubal’s throat until it pierced the wood behind the man.

The young woman beamed, overwhelmed with pride and joy, “YES! Ashur is the best!”, she shouted happily, clapping her hands and her smiled grew even wider when Ashur lifted his head and took off his helmet to look up at her. His face was streaked with dust, blood and sweat, but the joyful light in his eyes was bright enough to put the Sun to shame as he raised his sword with a victorious roar, the crowd exploding in a roar of its own at his gesture.

Batiatus was impressed, “Your gladiator shows great promise indeed! He may even become one of the best of House of Batiatus, after all”, he commented. “He will become the best gladiator of the entire republic”, she said with absolute certainty, “He has the blood of a champion. **My** champion”, she added in a whisper, watching her gladiator walk in circle inside the small arena as the crowd cheered on him and Dagan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The securis was a single-bladed double-handed axe and though it was slower than a gladius, it could still inflict deadly damage even with a single swing.


	15. Celebrations and frustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quintus has a plan to acquire the support of some influential people. But Titus is, as usual, in the way and his son's scheme may blow up in his face.

When Ashur and Dagan got back to the ludus, they were cheered on and congratulated enthusiastically by the other gladiators, something that lifted their spirits and made Ashur feel a rush of pride at finally being called ‘brother’. His mood brightened even more an hour later, when a slave he didn’t know came to the gates and delivered a huge basket full of freshly baked bread, roasted meat, cheese and fruit so that they could celebrate.

And along with the basket, there was another message from Flaminia, which read: ‘ _Your victory in the arena warmed my heart and made my chest swell with pride. I have never seen more wonderful sight than that of your sword impaling opponent against wooden wall. You have the blood of a champion and today you took first step towards becoming a God. With all my heart, Flaminia’_.

“Good news?”. Gannicus’ voice startled him and he hastily hid the parchment behind his back, “Yes. Very good news”, he said, trying and failing miserably to hide his radiant smile. “I heard that you did well, brother. You brought honor to yourself and this house”, the Celt placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded, “Keep it up”. “I will, brother”, Ashur replied, savouring the sound of that word and rejoicing at the implications it carried.

“Good”, Gannicus’ lips curved in a smirk, “So, what will you do with coin you earned?”. The Syrian blinked, “I hadn’t thought of that yet”, he admitted, then an idea struck him, “Is there way to get something from outside ludus?”. “Women? Of course”. “No, not women”, he shook his head, “I meant things, like…Like earrings, or necklace”.

The other man chuckled, “Unusual taste in fashion, brother, but who knows? Maybe they will suit you”, he joked and Ashur laughed. “I doubt it! So…Is there way to achieve it?”. The blond Celt sobered, “There is, but keep in mind that slaves are not allowed to wear anything that is not approved by their dominus”.

“Ah”, Ashur bit his lower lip, “But Flaminia’s domina is good woman, or so they say, so maybe she will be allowed to accept gift”. “If you want to try, do it: that’s your coin after all”, Gannicus replied with a shrug, then grinned, “You are truly taken with her, aren’t you?”. “I…Yes. I am”. “Fool”, he sighed, “Well, heart cannot be controlled, so choice is removed from hands. I pray this will not cause you pain”, he said sincerely. “Gratitude, Gannicus”, Ashur clasped his forearm and nodded, touched by the other man’s genuine concern.

Oenomaus stepped into the room, “Gannicus, you are summoned”. “Shit”, the Celt cursed, walking upstairs, while doctore and Ashur rejoined the celebration. In the house, Titus was waiting for the blond man in the hall of champions, a scowl on his face as usual and Quintus by his side. “Dominus”, Gannicus bowed his head.

The old man didn’t acknowledge him, but stared at one bust in particular, “Magnitius”, he said, “One of the finest champions this house has ever forged”. “He stood a titan”, his son agreed. “As all of my champions”, Titus replied, turning around, “A combination of years of training, dedication, sacrifice”, he stepped forward, until he was right beside Gannicus, “You would hold yourself their equal?”. “In the arena, I have never met equal”, the Celt stated quietly.

Titus hmmed and moved to the balcony, “A champion is more than his victories upon the sands: he’s the sum of his actions. Every decision, no matter how small, speaks to the man. And the balance of his heart”. “In his breast beats the heart of a lion”, Quintus said proudly.

The old man turned around once more, to look the gladiator in the eyes, “And what does it beat for?”. Gannicus took a deep breath before answering, “House of Batiatus”, he said, but he couldn’t help averting his gaze for a long moment as he did so. Titus observed him carefully, “Return him to the ludus”, he ordered.

When he and his son were alone, Quintus smiled. “See? Man fights for the honor of this House, as your champions of the past”. “Gannicus but speaks words he knows I seek to hear”, Titus replied, “He is no champion of MY house”, he spat, walking past his son and back to his room. Trouble was coming.

888888888888

Meanwhile, Lucretia and Gaia were discussing the meeting they’d had that morning at the market: Petronius, a rich and very influential man Gaia had set her eyes on as a potential (new) husband. Unfortunately for her, the man ignored her completely and instead showed much interest in the ‘special pleasures’ that the House of Batiatus had to offer to its guests, something he’d learned of from Quinctilius Varus.

“I stand before Petronius with obvious charms and all he can do is prattle about the House of Batiatus!”, Gaia whined, offended, as she sat on a bench, “I fear I have lost delicate touch”. Lucretia arched an eyebrow skeptically, “Your touch is many things, delicate not among them”, she said flatly. “You are of a mood”.

“If word of what we have to offer had spread to Petronius, how long before it reaches Titus here?”. The redhead grinned, “Perhaps it should: the shock would knock out the old goat”. “You jest, but we stand upon shaking ground”. “It’s not as if all of Rome knows. Only the most privileged tongues whisper of delights to be found inside these walls. Delights Petronius and his friends long to witness”.

“Do not even consider it!”, Lucretia hissed, “This is beyond reason! If Titus should…”. “What joys is my father preventing now?”, Quintus asked, entering the room. The two women informed him of the matter and he mulled over it for a long moment, then sighed, “With the support of Petronius, my men would get position in the opening games of the new arena”. “Quintus, your father…”. “Make the arrangements”, he said, “I will take care of my father”.

Next morning, as they were on the balcony above the sands of the ludus and Gnaeus was convinced from doctore to switch to using the net and tridents, Titus noticed Gannicus sparring with Barca. “Your man shows fire today!”, the old man commented, turning to his son. “Ignited by your words, I’m sure”, Quintus replied. His father chuckled, but a fit of hard coughing forced him to sit down and Lucretia called for more honeyed wine. “I’m fine”.

“You are too long from the salt and warmth of the coast”, the son commented. “I shall remain from Sicilia longer still, do not waste breath on the matter”. “I will not see you so far removed, but a day or more by the waters of Neapolis?”. “Yes, to revive color!”, Lucretia agreed. Titus shook his head, “My concern lies only with this ludus and to see it to former glories”.

 _Stubborn old goat_ , Quintus thought, “What if then our journey served your cause? We could review the latest shipments and try securing a champion, favoured by us both!”, he proposed, “Someone to rival Vettius’ men”. Titus made to reply, but another fit of coughing bent him in two and Lucretia was quick to bring him more honeyed wine.

He drank, then looked from his daughter-in-law to his son, “You conspire against an old man…To our advantage”, he smiled, “Make your preparations, we leave for Neapolis”, he told Quintus, standing and going to make his own preparations.

His son was relieved beyond words and whispered to his wife to get everything ready for their guests, as the party would take place that very same night, adding that she should summon Solonius to supervise the event in his stead and make sure that nothing would go wrong.

888888888888

In Neapolis that night, Quintus and Titus walked on a slave ship to examine the new shipment. “What of this one?”, the slaver said, pointing to one of the chained men, “A worthy addition to any of the ludus!”. Titus turned to his son, “Would you offer for this one?”. “I would not waste coin: man favors his left, due to injury to the leg”, his son replied flatly, moving away from the slaves.

“I’ve a suitable slave for one with observing eye”, the slaver tried again, “Let us move to something of rarer quality: I have a Thracian!”. Quintus shook his head, “Thracians are too difficult to control and aggravate the Gauls beyond reason”.

Titus laughed, “My son speaks truth! Do you offer us piss and claim it wine?”. The slaver sneered, “You will find no deal in Neapolis”. The old man snorted and turned on his heels to leave, his son close by, “Come, let us seek some wine to wash shit from mouth”.

They found a tavern with reasonably good wine and Titus offered to go to the bar and get a cup for each of them. “I have never cared for surprises”, he told his son, “Yet you have provided many in your days”. “Your disappointment was often given voice. A loud and clear one”, Quintus added. “Disappointment can only exist with expectations. You proved from tender age that you would listen to no-one’s counsel than your own”.

“When have I ever turned from your advice? My desire to gain military experience raised your objections, I turned from it. You commanded that I run the ludus in your absence, I abode, abandoning my own desires, long since forgotten. When has the son ever denied the father?”, Quintus asked bitterly. “When he married a woman beneath”.

He was dumbstruck for a moment, then pressed his lips in a thin line, “You were wrong, father. As you have been on many things”, he added, looking down into his cup. Titus realized he had gone too far, “An old man’s mistakes weight down on his breast, as remaining days shrink”. The younger man chuckled, “You’ll outlive us all, you’re too stubborn to die”.

“You think me a fool, Quintus?”. He snorted, “There are many words I would use for your description, but fool is not among them”. “No, it’s not. You knew the ship was full of shit even before we set foot on path. Forging new memories was not reason to keep your father from ludus, was it?”. Quintus felt his blood run cold and thought furiously to find something to say in his defense, when his father smiled.

“You wished to find common ground, far from the sight of former disagreements”. He felt relief wash over him, “Minor deception, meant only to strengthen the bond between father and son”, he lied and was surprised and pleased when Titus put a hand on his shoulder. “This surprise is one most welcome”, the old man said, eyes moist with happy tears, “Yet we did not need to travel so far from conflict. I would return home”.

Panic gripped Quintus again, “What? Now? Should we not wait until the break of day?”. “A few hours upon the road and our own beds to fall to. Come!”. He clenched his fists tightly, knowing there was no way to avoid the disaster. He could only hope that the party would be over before they got back home.


	16. Beneath the mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A great celebration takes place at the house of Batiatus and two characters live a very, very, very special moment

Lucretia knew she was in trouble as soon as she noticed Flaminia’s livid face. “Is it true you’re planning to have gladiators take part in the orgy with guests?”, the younger woman asked in a tightly controlled voice. “Yes, but…”. “You cannot use gladiators for this! They are fighters, warriors, not…Not common whores!”, she concluded, disgusted.

Lucretia sighed, “I understand point of view, but guests will want something more than a simple show with house slaves and you know how much we need support of influential people”. “At least leave Ashur out of it”, Flaminia said, “He belongs to me, Quintus and I have deal…”. “I cannot do as you ask, my friend. Apologies, but I need all of them: if I left out any of them, guests could feel insulted by it”.

She clenched her fists, a hairsbreadth away from resorting to violence to force her long-time friend to comply, but then she realized that the Gods were giving her a golden opportunity to get what she had yearned for ever since that first day in the market square and smiled, “Fine, but I have condition: I want to take part in the celebrations as well”.

The matrona hesitated, “But you are wife of a senator now and…”. “I will be wearing a mask for the whole time, so that nobody will recognize me”. “In this case, I accept your condition”. “Gratitude”, Flaminia immediately went to choose her mask, opting for that of Nemesis and put it on, “Now I’m ready”, she said, a shiver of anticipation running through her: tonight was the night when the Gods would grant her wish.

Tonight, he would finally be hers.

888888888888

Ashur walked up the stairs leading to the house with the same look on his face than that of a man walking to the gallows: he knew why domina had ordered all the gladiators to wash themselves and rub their bodies with scented oil and the mere thought of being used as a sex toy by some Roman pervert made him sick.

At least he wasn’t the only one feeling like that, from what he could tell by Indus’ face: the younger man looked like he could throw up at any moment and kept on clenching and unclenching his fists, beads of sweat already matting his forehead. “What if a man picks me?”, the Macedon suddenly blurted out, turning to him, “I don’t want to fuck with man!”.

The Syrian sighed, “Neither do I. Not much we can do about it, though”. “But…”. “Shut fucking mouth!”, Oenomaus snapped, “You will do whatever is asked of you. Is it clear?”. “Yes, doctore”, they answered in unison.

When they reached the main room of the house, the gladiators lined up against the wall for the Romans to examine, just like they had been put on display that day at the slave market. Ashur gritted his teeth at that memory, but kept his face impassive: it would do him no good to let his anger show after all.

As Rhaskos was ‘performing’ with Diona for the entertainment of the guests, he silently prayed to the gods of his native land that those pervs would simply ignore him and pick someone else. Maybe, if he was lucky, they would consider him not worth it and pass him by, maybe he would be left alone…

And just as he was thinking this, a masked brown-haired woman wearing a white dress, with an opal necklace and matching earrings, walked straight to him and extended her left hand without saying a word and he had little choice but to take it.

Figures that he would be the first one to be picked, he thought as he followed her to a small side room. Just his usual rotten luck. Maybe he should convert to praying the Roman gods, since his own enjoyed so much giving him the finger.

As the woman locked the door, he felt his stomach clench in a tight knot and for a fleeting instant, he thought of pushing her aside and running back to the safety of the ludus. All he wanted to do was to lie on the floor of his cell and sleep and if he was lucky, maybe he would dream of Flaminia. He didn’t want to fuck this stranger, he didn’t want to be a sex toy, he didn’t want to be touched by someone who wasn’t _her_ , he…

He was a slave and he had no choice.

As she approached him, he reluctantly moved to unfold his loincloth, but she took his hands in hers and shook her head. “No”. “Domina?”. “You don’t want it, do you?”, she asked in a whisper. “I…”. She placed a finger on his lips, “Eyes cannot lie and yours tell me you don’t want this”, her arm fell back to her side, “Apologies. You are safe here. You will not be abused, not by me, not by anyone else”.

He stared at her, baffled: it was the first time he’d ever heard a Roman call it ‘abuse’. Before he could ask her about it, she took a deep breath and took off the mask and his heart skipped a beat. “Flaminia?”. “I couldn’t let them hurt you”, she said, looking at the floor with a mixture of shame and guilt, “And I would rather die than hurt you”.

He impulsively took her face in his hands and kissed her and she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I love you”, he blurted out, he had been waiting to tell her this for so long and now that she was here, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I love you too”, the young woman said, a warm smile lighting up her face for a moment, but then she lowered her gaze again, “I…I have confession to make”.

“Confession?”. “I’m not slave: I’m a free woman. Apologies for hiding the truth from you, but I had no choice”. Ashur’s surprise at the revelation quickly turned into anger, “You lied to me”. “I did, but…”. “You played me for a fool! You toyed with me!”, he growled, taking a step back and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

“No! Ashur, I beg you, don’t be mad at me! I didn’t mean to trick you, or to hurt you, I...I just wanted to know you, to spend time with you as equals…”. “But we’re not equals, are we? I am slave and you are free woman. **Domina** ”, he spat and she flinched at the ice in his voice.

“It does not matter to me! You are no slave to me, you are a man. Most wonderful man I have ever met in my whole life”, Flaminia said, her eyes filling with tears, “Please believe me, I would not have lied to you, had there been another way, but if you had known I was Roman, you would have never talked to me as a friend, you would have never seen me as I really am: you would have only seen a domina to bow to and I didn’t want that. I wanted us to know each other as equals, because this is what we are, as far as I am concerned”.

He hesitated, uncertain, but the rational part of his brain told him that she had a point: if he had known from the start of their difference in status, he would have kept his distance and they would have never truly known each other. And she looked so distraught by his coldness, so honestly sorry and sad…

“Please, please, do not hate me for that one lie”, she begged him, “I swear to Mars that everything else I told you about myself is true, as is my love for you”. Those words cleared his mind of any remaining doubt: he knew how devoted she was to the War God and if she was willing to call Him as her testimony on her honesty and feelings for him, she was most assuredly telling the truth.

“I believe you”, he said. “Really?”. “Really”, he smiled and hugged her, holding her tightly to his chest and she melted in his arms with a sigh of relief. “Bless Mars! I love you so much, I couldn’t bear the thought of you hating me”. “I could never hate you”.

They kissed again, then again, their passion growing until he opened the golden clasps of her dress and let it slip to the floor, his hands roaming over her impossibly soft skin. He kept her at arm’s length and admired her for a long moment, “You are so beautiful…Not even Ishtar can compare to such beauty”. “Ishtar?”. “The Goddess of love and fertility in my homeland. Like Venus”.

Flaminia’s gaze softened as she looked him over, “And you are perfect”, she purred, stroking his sculpted chest and abdomen, then she bit her lower lip, suddenly uncertain, “Ashur, do you…Do you really want this? To lie with me?”. “I want it more than you can imagine. My goddess”, he added, then he bent to kiss her neck and she moaned softly and arched into him as she unfolded his loincloth, feeling his long, big and hard shaft pressed against her thighs.

“Ashur…”. “Yes, my goddess?”. “I…”, she hesitated, blushing crimson, “I am a virgin”.

He blinked, “You are?”. “Yes. I was given as wife to another man, but I couldn’t stand the thought of lying with him, so I got him drunk and sent him whore instead. He never noticed and since I came back to Capua the day after the marriage, he hasn’t had the chance to put his filthy hands on me yet. And I don’t intend to let him”, she stated.

“I am doubly blessed by the Gods, then, for not only I have your love, but I am also gifted the privilege of being your first”. “You are my one and only”, she said, brushing her nose with his, “No matter what will happen, my heart belongs to you and you alone”. “And mine belongs to you, Flaminia”.

Her lips curved with mischief, “You know, even if I am still untouched, I had whore teach me how to please a man. At first I planned to use this skill to submit my husband, but he sickened me too much to even think of touching him, so I tricked him instead”. The young man grinned, “But you still remember your lessons, don’t you?”. “Oh, I do indeed. Shall I show you?”. “Yes, please, my love”.

“Lie down, then”. “I am yours to command”, he joked and her smile vanished. “Ashur, no, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re no slave now”. “I know”, he reassured her, stroking her cheek with tenderness, “I will do everything you ask not out of obligation, but because I want to. For you”. “So will I for you”, she promised, locking her lips with his once again until they both were breathless.

He lay down and she straddled him, then she massaged his shoulders as she had learnt to do from the whore she had killed. “Do you like it?”. “Yes”, he let out a sigh of pleasure as her hands moved slowly downwards, stroking and kneading, easing the tension and fatigue he had accumulated during the day, “It feels so good…”. “And this is only the beginning”, her smile widened and she bent on him, kissing and nibbling his neck and collarbone.

A muffled moan escaped Ashur’s lips, “Flaminia…”. “Yes, beloved, I’m here”, she whispered, her mouth moving slowly downwards along his strong body and to her ears, his soft sounds of pleasure were the most wonderful music she’d ever heard. She hesitated a moment when she reached his shaft, then she gently took it between her lips and sucked on its tip while her tongue swirled over it, causing Ashur to arch his back and moan even louder.

They took their time in exploring each other, giving and taking in equal measure, until they became one and everything faded around them. Afterwards, he lay on his back and wrapped his arms around her, making her place her head on his chest, “I love you”. “I love you too”, she replied with a languid, happy smile, snuggling against him, “I wish we could stay here forever”.

“So do I, but I fear we won’t be allowed to stay for long. Domina will come looking for you and I will be sent back to ludus”. “I know. But until then, I suggest we enjoy what time we have”. “I am in full agreement”, he chuckled, tightening his hold on her: he felt happier and safer than he had ever been since his capture and as he inhaled the sweet scent of her skin, he slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep. For just that one night, everything in his life was perfect.


	17. A bittersweet morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new sun brings both joy and pain to those who still linger in the House of Batiatus

The first thing Ashur noticed as he awakened was a warm weight on his shoulder and a sweet scent caressing his nostrils, then he blinked to clear his vision and looking down, he saw Flaminia sleeping peacefully with her head on his chest.

His lips curved in a tender, happy smile and he stroked her hair, which had broken free of her braid during their lovemaking and now fell in soft waves around her face, “ _I love you_ ”, he whispered in his native language, “ _My gentle, beautiful, strong-willed fiery goddess_ ”. She stirred at his touch and raised her head, smiling softly as she met his eyes, “You’re here”, she said with a mixture of happiness and awe, “I was afraid it had all been a dream”.

“It was all real, my love”, he purred, a mischievous grin appearing on his face, “And you are so deliciously tight that it drives me mad”. She blushed crimson at that remark and an embarrassed giggle escaped her lips, “You know, I…I loved how full I felt when you took me. It felt so good, so intense, so perfect…”, she confessed, shooting him a shy smile that made his heart melt.

He slipped his arms around her waist and locked lips with her until they were both breathless, pouring all of his love in the kiss, “ **You** are perfect, my goddess. But now I fear we have to go: celebrations are likely about to end and if they find you here with me…”. “I know”, Flaminia sighed and reluctantly left the bed, then she picked her dress up from the floor and wore it, “I wish we had more time”.

“So do I”, he agreed, putting his loincloth back on, “But maybe there will be another chance”. “I will do all in my power to make it happen, rest assured, beloved”, she promised, giving him one more kiss before unlocking the door and peeking out, “There is nobody in sight”. “Your mask”, he reminded her, handing her the mask.

“Oh, right. Gratitude”, she said, putting it on, “Wait here, I will make sure that celebrations are truly over”. “But…”. “If they are not, you would risk being used by one of them and I will be damned before I let them lay even a single finger on you”, Flaminia cut him off, her voice gaining an unmistakably dangerous edge and his heart fluttered with joy at hearing it. “As you wish”.

She slipped out of the door and padded silently to the main room, where she saw that nearly all of the guests lay on the floor together with many slaves and most of the gladiators and her stomach twisted with disgust, but she snapped out of it when her eyes fell on Lucretia and Solonius, “Lucretia!”. The matron let out a sigh of relief, “Oh, you’re here, bless Jupiter! Where have you been? I was worried!”, she exclaimed in a heated whisper.

“I was in a side room, away from…This”, the younger woman replied, gesturing to the mess on the floor, “Is celebration over?”. “Yes, guests will be invited to leave as soon as we manage to wake them up”. “Good. I’ll be right back…Wait, where is Gaia?”. Solonius’ lips curved with contempt, “I saw her leaving room with Tullius”.

“Oh. Well, maybe she managed to convince him to leave Quintus alone”, she nodded and quickly went back to her gladiator, “Celebration is over, you can safely come out now”. Ashur closed his eyes for a moment, silently thanking his Gods for the gift they had bestowed upon him that night and then smiled at her, “Gratitude for your care, my goddess”. “I would do anything to protect you”, she purred, taking off her mask for one last passionate kiss, “Now go, I will follow you in a moment”.

He nodded and went back to his place in line, at Dagan’s right and he noticed that his countryman looked angry and ashamed, “ _What is wrong, brother?_ ”, he asked in their native language, but the taller man just gulped and kept on staring ahead of himself with a scowl: whatever had happened to him, it was clear that it had not been pleasant in the slightest.

Oenomaus gave the order for the gladiators to go back to the ludus and while walking down the stairs, Ashur noticed Indus’ grimace and moved to his side. “You are of a mood, brother”. The Macedon bit his lower lip, “I…I was picked by man. But it was not that bad at first: Roman said he wanted to see how long I could last and so, he had one of house slaves suck my cock while he touched himself. Only, when he saw I was not hardening fast enough for his likings, he…He walked behind me and put a finger…”, he clenched his fists and tears welled up in his eyes.

The Syrian put a hand on Indus’ shoulder, “It saddens me to hear it”, he said sincerely: the thought that his friend had been subjected to such humiliation, while he himself was enjoying the happiest time of his life, made him feel sad, angry and even a little bit guilty, even though he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent it.

The Macedon took a deep breath to calm down and managed a weak smile, “It could have been worse. Others did not have such luck”, he said, with a subtle nod in Dagan’s direction, “He was picked by man too. Roman said he cared neither for struggle nor for complaints. I told him our brother does not fully grasp language yet and that there was no-one who could reform words so that he would understand…”.

Ashur frowned, “I could do it”, he noted. “True, but you were with that woman and if I told Roman that you were not available to do as he wanted, he may have become enraged and have you punished for it”, Indus replied simply.

The Syrian was dumbfounded for a moment at that show of genuine friendship and smiled, “Gratitude, brother. I will see kindness returned at first opportunity”, he promised, then shot a worried look at Dagan, who kept himself apart from the others and was still sulking, “What did the Roman do then?”.

“He…He said that he did not care about lack of understanding after all, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. When they came back, I saw blood on the back of his loincloth and well…You see marks on him”, the younger man added.

“I see them indeed”, Ashur said and gritted his teeth as his eyes traced the red marks on his countryman’s large back: it seemed that the Roman had not only used his hands to hit Dagan, but also some sort of whip, though at least he had not left any cut, only bruises.

He felt violent hatred spark in his chest, but he knew that he did not have the power to protect his friends from any of it, as he was just a slave like them. But maybe, if he talked to Flaminia about it, she could help with that, keep them a little bit safer, as she had sworn she would do for him.

For the moment, though, he had to help as much as he was able to, so as soon as they were back in the ludus, he grabbed a vial of balm for the infirmary and approached Dagan, “ _Brother, will you allow me to put this balm on your back? It will lessen the pain_ ”, he offered. Dagan seemed about to refuse, but then let out a sad sigh and nodded tiredly, turning around, “ _Thank you, brother_ ”.

888888888888

Flaminia, Lucretia and Solonius worked to awake the guests, who redressed with very satisfied smiles. “Words were not anything but truth!”, Petronius said as he moved to leave while holding Lucretia’s hand in his, “The offerings of the House of Batiatus are truly to be admired!”. “And even more so upon the sands”, she replied shrewdly, “Imagine the excitement it would cause if they were included in the opening games of the new arena!”.

“Capua would be blessed by such appearance”, he agreed, “I will send word to your husband to discuss matter”, he promised then, taking his leave and as soon as he was out of earshot, Flaminia beamed. “Mars blesses us! I can’t wait for Quintus to hear good news!”, she exulted and a part of her mind went to Ashur, hoping that he would be granted the honor of fighting in the opening games: that would be his golden opportunity to show all of Capua his worth.

Lucretia nodded and sighed, “Oh, I thought this night would never end”. “It concludes with this house soaring to the Heavens upon your wings”, Solonius told her with a flirty smile and at his side, the younger woman cleared her throat and shot him a warning look. The matron started, “Well, the hour is late”, she said quickly, moving towards the slaves, “Take to your beds and carry with you my gratitude, friends”.

He hesitated, “Should I not linger until all guests have departed?”. Flaminia frowned at that, “Who is still here?”. “Tullius”, Lucretia answered, “But Gaia is a woman of great appetite, dawn will break before she has had her fill”, she added and the other woman rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s for sure”.

Solonius reluctantly left while Flaminia decided to stay and help the slaves clean up, despite the matron’s protests. “If I help them, it will take less time to remove all evidence of what happened here before Titus is back”, she noted, picking off the floor the pieces of a shattered vase.

Lucretia shook her head with a fond smile at her friend’s stubbornness and after removing her earrings, she absentmindedly picked up a discarded mask. “Apollo”, Tullius said, suddenly appearing from the corridor and startling her, his usual slimy smile on his lips, “The God of the Sun!”. “And the truth”, the matron replied, forcing herself to smile.

“Something often obscured by the masks we wear”, he commented, moving closer until he was in front of her, “Your guests abandoned you”. “Not all of them”, Flaminia stated, coming to stand by Lucretia’s side and shooting him such a poisonous glare that he couldn’t help flinching. “Flaminia. I thought you would not take part in such celebration, now that you are married”.

“And I did not take part in it”, she replied without missing a beat, “I was here only to help Lucretia in keeping eye on guests, as good Solonius did. I was here for protection”. “I see”, he looked once again at the mask and smirked, “They say Apollo brings warmth and prosperity to those who pray to him. Those who understand their place. On their knees”, he added, looking at Lucretia.

She swallowed the insult that was threatening to come out, “Tullius…”. “You know I often dreamt of Gaia’s touch”, he cut her off, “When I was a young man. A taste of her lips…Now they form words in my ear, asking favors for this house. Placing me in difficult position”. Both women felt uneasy, but for Lucretia is was because of a growing sense of dread, while for Flaminia it was because of a burst of pure hatred and the raw desire to pluck Tullius’ eyes out with her nails.

“Gaia’s affections for this house are genuine”, the matron assured him, “As are her feelings for you”, she then lied, managing to smile again despite her nervousness. “Returned in kind”, he said, his obnoxious smirk widening, “She holds my reply. Go to her and see it delivered”, he concluded, leaving.

Lucretia and Flaminia hurried to the direction he’d come from and when they reached the small room, they first found their friend’s trademark red wig on the floor and then, the dead body of the woman herself, a pool of blood under her shattered head and her eyes open and unseeing. Lucretia let out a loud shriek of pure horror, while Flaminia forced back her tears and clenched her fists.

“I’ll go after him and make him pay”, she growled, but the matron grabbed her arm before she could even take a step. “No! Gaia…We…She can’t…We must…”, Lucretia was shaking like a leaf in the wind, crying and sobbing and her friend forgot her fury at seeing her like that and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Come, you need a cup of wine”.

“But Gaia…!”. “I will take care of her, I promise. Melitta!”, she called loudly. The slave came running and gasped as she noticed the corpse. “Bring her to her room and see that she drinks a cup of wine. **Not** honeyed wine”, she added, because she suspected well enough the truth behind the honeyed wine of that house.


	18. Asking for it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Titus makes one bad decision after the other. And in doing so, he gains a very dangerous enemy

When Quintus and Titus came back from Neapolis, the former was shocked by the news of Gaia’s death, while the latter was furious. “Have you lost mind?”, the old man snarled, “Again attempting to maneuver around Tullius!”. “I only sought to elevate our position!”, Quintus replied. “By putting the good name of the house in muck and shit?”.

“What would you have me do?!?”, the son nearly roared, exasperated, “Bind to fucking Tullius’ whims…”. “He is above our station!”, his father shot back, “I gave warning not to provoke the man! You ignored it and here are the results: a Roman citizen, dead, in my house!”. “At the hands of the very man you defend”, Lucretia said in a weak, tired voice from the chair she was curled up on.

“You help set this in motion”, Titus accused her, “And now claim innocence in the outcome?”. She raised her head and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, “I claim **vengeance**. His life for hers. Blood and brains on the fucking floor”. “And you will have it”, Flaminia promised her, stroking her back as she knelt at her side. “Reward well deserved!”, Quintus agreed.

“No”, Titus said, with a face so grim that it would have curled milk, “There will be no retribution! And you”, he glared at Flaminia, “I had hoped you would help my son see reason, yet here you are, taking his side!”. The young woman stood and squared her shoulders, “I care for him and for Lucretia and I do what I feel is required to help them”. “You help them in falling deeper into shit!”, he spat.

“I will see revenge taken”, Lucretia hissed. “You will do as fucking commanded!”, Titus snarled, turning his back on them. The matron sniffed, “What of Gaia?”.

He mulled over it for a long moment, “She partook of too much wine, as she was often known to do. In the night she lost footing and fell to her death to the bottom of the cliff”, he decided. Lucretia turned to look at her husband, but Titus snapped. “Do not turn to him! **I** am the dominus of this fucking house! See it done!”, he concluded, leaving the room, “Quintus!”.

His son had no choice but to follow him to the inner garden and the two women remained alone. “Gaia will be avenged”, Flaminia repeated softly to the matron, “I will see it done, my friend, I swear it with Mars as my witness: I will make Tullius pay for this”. Lucretia smiled at her with a mixture of fondness and sadness, “You are blessing to this house, but I do not want you to risk for my sake: you are wife of senator now and…”.

“I am first and foremost your friend, husband be fucked. And Titus be fucked too”, she added and the matron couldn’t help a small giggle escaping her lips. “I so agree”. “Do not let concern weigh on heart, Lucretia: I will find way to see everything settled. Now come, let us pay last respects to Gaia”.

888888888888

In the meantime, Titus was about to drop a heavy load onto his son’s shoulders. “So this is why you spirited me to Neapolis”, the old man said, “Not to find common ground, but to bury our fortune!”. “It was not my intent”. “Oh, so you knew nothing of this, it was all that woman’s doing?”. Quintus opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out and his father sighed.

“The two of you feed off each other, fattening yourselves with your lies! But I will see feast at an end”, he growled. The younger Batiatus frowned, “What is your meaning?”. “You know my fucking meaning! That you married that woman who brought nothing but shame!”. “She is my wife!”, Quintus shouted, his anger rising quickly.

“Because I foolishly allowed it. How much did you do to have something of your own, something that held meaning to you, even if no-one else sought it? What has she given you? No dowry to speak of, no name to elevate status, no heir to carry the name Batiatus”, he listed, lips twisting with contempt, “Flaminia would have given you all of it, but I was too much of a fool to make arrangement with her father when I still could and now it’s too late.

I cannot change missteps of the past, but I **will** see you on proper path…And Lucretia must be swept from it”. Quintus felt his blood run cold, “You would dissolve my marriage?”, he asked, disbelieving. “No. You will make that choice for yourself, or be gone from this house with her”.

888888888888

The following morning, Quintus and Solonius walked between the stalls of the market, the former still unnerved at his father’s ultimatum. “It’s all fucked!”, he exclaimed, “Tullius assaults guest in our own house and father condemns innocent son!”. “Blame is mine”, Solonius said, “If only I had stayed longer…”.

“No, you might have joined Gaia in untimely end”, his friend replied, patting his back, “All fault rests on Tullius alone”, he said, then turned and sighed as a loud cheer came from the end of the alley, “Listen: cheering the final games of the old arena, yet here we stand, as removed from it as Gaia from this world, cursed be again that fucking Tullius!”.

“It appears I will make an appearance after all”. Quintus frowned, “You got an invitation to the games?”. “At request of the magistrate”, Solonius confessed uneasily, “A minor position, the effort far exceeds the reward”. The younger lanista looked at him for a long moment, then placed a hand on his back again, “Warms heart to know you’re unscathed from association with me”.

“Petronius seemed quite pleased with your offerings”, the older man tried to comfort him, “Perhaps there is still opportunity for you to gain place in the opening games of the new arena”. “Fuck the arena!”, he snapped angrily, “Fuck Tullius, fuck the fucking Gods, even the magistrate! Now my father gives ultimatum: Lucretia holds no longer title of wife”.

Solonius was astonished, “Titus dissolved your marriage?”. “It would be a kindness! If I don’t cast her out, I’ll find myself on the street with her!”. “Perhaps it’s best for her to find another husband”, the older lanista murmured and Quintus pursed his lips. “I would sever cock from fucking body rather than see her from my arms”, he stated. Solonius made as if to speak, but a female voice came from their left.

“Quintus! Good Solonius!”. Both men turned to see Flaminia approach, with Kerovas at her side as always. “Rejoice, Quintus, I bring good news”, she told him, “I come from house of magistrate Sextus: we had long conversation, during which I reminded him of Gannicus’ victory against Vettius’ worthless cunt and told him how impressive the titans of the House of Batiatus are on the sands. I also mentioned that it would greatly please me to see them fight at opening games of the new arena and he said he will send word to you to discuss matter this very afternoon”.

“How…How did you manage that?”, Solonius asked, dumbfounded and she smirked. “Now that I am wife of senator, my word has weight even for magistrate. Tullius’ schemes and coin cannot outweigh it”. Quintus smiled, but it was half-hearted, “Gratitude for your care, but even such good news cannot lift weight from heart”. She frowned, “What happened?”. “Father ordered me to dissolve marriage, or leave house with Lucretia”.

Her eyes blazed with anger and her cheeks paled, “How dare he? Lucretia is your wife!”. “I know. Yet I do not see other outcome”. “What of games?”. “Father is in charge of ludus now and if he refuses, my men will not take part to them”.

She gritted her teeth: that old bastard would not be allowed to steal such a golden opportunity from her Ashur! Something needed to be done and soon, she only needed a good plan, “I see. It’s shame, but there is nothing we can do to remedy it. Well, I will take my leave now, I have business to take care of. May Mars lift burden from your shoulders, Quintus. Good Solonius, it is always pleasure to see you”. “And you as well”.

888888888888

In the ludus, Titus was watching the gladiators training with Oenomaus by his side. “What do you make of Syrians?”, the old man asked. “Ashur shows great promise”, doctore replied, “While not as strong as others, he is quick in mind and body and can easily best man twice his size. As for Dagan, size and skill advantage him. And Ashur is teaching him our language, so I am confident that soon he will understand words without need for assistance”, he answered, then noticed Gannicus.

His chest still sported the two long cuts left by Tullius’ blade from the previous night, when the Roman had wanted to spar with the champion and the gladiator had been forced to lose and not attack in turn and he looked unusually serious and grim that morning. “Gannicus”, the Numidian called him, “Work the palus”. The gladiator nodded without a word, he was in no mood for conversation.

Titus shook his head, “I leave this house unsupervised and here stand results”, he commented spitefully. “Apologies dominus”, Oenumaus said. “You but did as commanded, by my son, who fell into shit with improprieties. I would see this house safe through troubled waters, if you would help”. “Speak and see me set to task”.

Titus looked at the gladiators once again, “A good company of men has been built in my absence. Arrange competition, so I may evaluate true worth of those beneath my roof”. “Our champion may be absent at competition until recovery”. “I hold no man champion if he hasn’t proved himself to my eyes. All those who stand victorious will find honored position within these walls. Those who do not will be sold to the mines”.

Oenomaus’ eyes widened a fraction, “All of them bear the Mark”, he said politely, but it was obvious he disagreed with his dominus’ decision. “I remain unconvinced if they truly all are deserving of it. You are clear to your purpose?”, Titus asked as he looked pointedly at the taller man. “Yes, dominus”, doctore answered reluctantly.

The old man nodded and went back into the house, completely unaware that he had just hammered another nail on his own coffin.


	19. Silk and steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flaminia knows what she wants. And she knows how to obtain it

The following morning, the competition arranged by Titus began, with the first match seeing Ashur against Barca. The younger gladiator was eager to give the older man a hard beating, because, even if they were now brothers by the Mark, he had not yet forgotten the humiliations inflicted on him and his friends back when they were still recruits.

The Beast of Carthage was equipped as always with a spear and a small shield, Ashur with a gladius and a parma. Barca made a low sweeping thrust that was meant to topple his opponent over, but the Syrian was quick to jump and step back, then sprung forward as if to strike at the other’s belly, but at the last second he sidestepped and slashed at Barca’s unprotected side, the wooden tip of the sword leaving behind a long red mark.

Barca swore, but before he could retaliate, Ashur moved behind him and slammed the shield against his back, causing him to stumble forward a couple of steps. “What’s wrong, Barca? Getting soft?”, the younger gladiator chuckled, dark eyes twinkling with mirth and pride.

“You fucking cunt!”, the Beast of Carthage snarled, launching a relentless attack, but much to his frustration, Ashur was too quick and kept on parrying or dodging his blows, “Stop dancing around and fight!”. “If you insist”, the Syrian said with a smirk, then he made a feint to the left and when he found his opening, he struck to the right with all of his strength, being careful to use the flat side of the sword, then he elbowed Barca in the middle and slammed the shield into his face, hooking the other’s knee with his foot and twirling on his axis to topple him over..

Barca fell to the ground and Ashur didn’t waste any time in kneeling at his side and placing the tip of his sword on the other’s throat. “I would stay down if I were you, brother”, he said, half-mocking and half-friendly.

Titus couldn’t believe his eyes, but a small, very small smile curved his lips, “You did well, Ashur”, he addressed the Syrian, “You are victor. Next match!”. Ashur bowed his head and helped his fellow gladiator up, “Seems like I will be spared for now”. The Beast of Carthage nodded and clapped him on the back, “You learned well, brother”, he replied with a sincere smile and that was the best praise the younger man had ever received from him.

Ashur went back to his place in the circle and watched with a mixture of worry and pride as Indus fought against Rhaskos: worry because the Macedon was small and willowy in stark contrast to the Egyptian’s bulky frame, pride because despite the apparent disadvantage, Indus managed to win the match without taking too much of a beating.

From the balcony, Titus sealed the Macedon’s victory and called for the next match, while the young gladiator let out a long sigh of relief as he took his place in the circle, at Ashur’s left. “Your victory warmed heart, brother”, the Syrian complimented him with a smile and he smiled back. “Gratitude, brother. I had feared to end up in mines, but I suppose we are safe for now”.

“Our domina will never allow for us to be sent to mines”, Ashur assured him, a spark of warmth igniting in his chest as he thought of Flaminia, of her kisses, the scent of her soft skin, her smile... “Why isn’t she here then?”, Indus asked, frowning, “Why does she allow for us to take part to competition?”.

“I don’t know, but…”, the Syrian trailed off as he looked up at the balcony and noticed his beloved Roman woman standing there: apparently, she was having a heated argument with Titus, as she gesticulated angrily and her lovely face was twisted in a furious snarl. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but since she repeatedly gestured towards the ludus, he guessed it was about himself and Indus.

The old lanista shook his head and moved inside the house, Flaminia stalking him like a shadow and still her voice drifted to the sands, her words unintelligible but her tone heavy with rage. Ashur couldn’t help grinning, “I have feeling that soon enough we won’t have to worry about mines anymore, brother”, he commented.

Meanwhile, in the house, Flaminia was beyond herself, “I paid for them both and I demand for them to be spared competition!”, she growled, once more gesturing towards the ludus. “They bear the Mark of House of Batiatus, **not** of House of Lutatius!”, Titus shot back, “They are my property and…”.

“The fuck they are!”, she cut him off, “Quintus and I signed fucking contract and had it sealed by magistrate himself, so Ashur and Indus are **my** fucking property! You cannot send them to mines unless I say so!”. The old man’s eyes widened in shock, “When did you and my son sign contract?”. “Before you came to Capua”, she lied.

“I knew nothing of it”, he said, his tone heavy with suspicion. “Well, now you know”, she replied, “Have them out of competition **now** , or expect serious retribution for using my property without authorization”.

Titus pressed his lips in a thin line, it was clear he hated having to take orders from someone so much younger than him, yet she was the wife of a senator now, so he had little choice but to comply, “Fine”, he moved back to the balcony and leaned over the railings, “Doctore! Ashur and Indus are out of competition, as requested by their domina. They will not be send to mines”, he spat. Oenomaus blinked, surprised, but nodded, “Yes, dominus”, he said, then made his whip crack on the sand, “Ashur, Indus, you heard dominus! Go back to your cell!”.

The Syrian’s grin widened, “What did I tell you?”, he whispered to the Macedon as they left the courtyard, “Our domina cares for us”. “Bless the Gods”, Indus replied with a huge smile, “And bless her too. I wish I could meet her and express gratitude directly. I am certain she is as beautiful as she is kind”, he added. “She is, brother, more than you can imagine”.

“You saw her?”, he asked, surprised, “When?”. Ashur bit his lower lip, realizing he’d said too much, “She…She was at celebrations. I recognized her because of earrings she wore”, he lied. “Why didn’t you tell me?”. His lips curved in a lopsided smirk, “I was not given time to do so: if you recall, I had been…Requested…By guest that night”.

The Macedon frowned, then nodded, “Oh, right. She must have kept you busy, by the way: you only came back after celebrations were over!”. “I was quite busy, yes”, Ashur’s eyes took on a dreamy look as he remembered those wonderful moments he had shared with his beloved, “I gave her all I had”, he said and nearly started at Indus’ laugh. “Lucky you! Yet, I wonder what Flaminia would say if she knew of it”.

“She knows I’m slave. I have generous and kind-hearted domina, but I am still slave”. “And so is she”, the Macedon commented, sobering, “I worry about her, you know. What if her domina also gives orgies and asks her to…?”. “She won’t”.

“How can you be so sure?”. “Because…Kerovas told me”, Ashur lied, “Our domina is not that kind of woman. She even bought my brother, my **blood** brother, to keep him safe and give him a home! She cares for her slaves”, _and for me_ , he added in his mind, though of course he could not say it out loud.

888888888888

Her gladiators were safe now, but Flaminia was not yet satisfied, as she knew full well that Titus would not have them fight at the opening games of the new arena. Also, he would not go back on his demand that Quintus dissolve his marriage, no matter how much his son could try to reason with him. In Flaminia’s opinion, there was only **one** way left to solve all of their problems for good.

That was why she was currently in the seediest part of Capua, where only criminals and whores treaded, her scarf wrapped around her head to hide her face, as she needed something that could not be found in the ‘regular’ shops, “So, you have it?”, she asked the smuggler, her tone cold and hard.

The man, a flabby and disgustingly dirty piece of work with rotten teeth, nodded, “Aye, I got just what you need, domina! Couple drops of this and it’s farewell!”, he assured her, showing her a small sealed vial. “Good. How much?”.

“One hundred denarii”, he replied with a wide lewd grin, “But I could lower price to fifty denarii, if you let me take good look at those legs of yours”, he added. She narrowed her eyes at him, “Fine, a quick look and deal is sealed“, she agreed, her right hand grabbing the hem of her newly bought scarlet dress and slipping it up to her knees.

“A bit more, domina”, he drooled and she just nodded. “As you wish”, she said, the soft fabric sliding a little higher as her left hand whipped forward to slash the merchant’s throat with a small razor she’d kept hidden in her palm until then.

While her victim fell to the ground chocking on his own blood, she calmly cleaned the blade on her dress (that was why she had chosen a red one instead of dressing in white as she always did), picked up the vial and slipped the small razor into her purse. Then she walked back to the main road humming a merry tune under her breath and smiling cheerfully behind her scarf: all was going well.


	20. Bitter wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tullius makes a fatal mistake and Flaminia is quick to use it to her advantage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: I’m altering the timeline a bit: in the canon, the meeting between Tullius and Titus would take place the second day of the contest, but here I’m speeding things up a little. I hope you don’t mind the change

When evening came, Tullius visited the house of Batiatus to speak with Titus, bringing an amphora of wine as a sign of good will, “I recalled your fondness for this wine”, he said as his slave handed the gift to the old lanista, “Varus has assured me that this is his finest”. “I am plied with honeyed wine at every turn these days”, Titus commented, his words cut off by a fit of coughing.

“A simple gesture, small amends for jagged ends”. “Jagged? A woman is dead, Tullius. A **Roman** woman, in **my** house. You’ve gone too far”. “I have come to make amends. With a gift”. Titus frowned and coughed again, “You offer wine to wash away blood?”. “I offer position in the opening games of the new arena”, the merchant said, his usual slimy smile curving his lips.

“Why would you do this?”. “In honor of history: Capua has marveled at many champions of the House of Batiatus over the years. The storied victories of your men were a part of the old arena, as much as its wood and sand. In its final days past, absent the House of Batiatus. An unthinkable tragedy, caused by the actions of a foolish son”, he added with a look of feigned concern.

“You know I do not condone his mistakes, yet, his actions do not stand alone in deserving condemnation”, Titus said, but it lacked the sting. “The past cannot be changed. Let us turn eyes to bright horizon of glories untold, to be shared together!”. The older man curled his upper lip, “What is it you seek in return for such…Generosity?”, he asked, dripping sarcasm. “The only thing I’ve ever sought: Gannicus”.

There was a brief, but heavy silence. “My son believes the man a champion above all others”. “You were a reasonable man, Titus, you always have been. All I ask is that you consider what is best for your house”, Tullius said with a fake smile, though his eyes were cold and menacing, “Enjoy your wine”, he concluded, taking his leave.

Meanwhile, Quintus and Lucretia were having an argument, because he didn’t refuse his father’s ultimatum outright and simply accepted to delay the time for his answer of two more days. “I need time to convince him of your worth”, Quintus told her, sighing. “Is he the one who needs convincing, Quintus?”.

“Why do you have that fucking tone? I defend you at every turn!”, he snapped. “And **I** have made every sacrifice!”, she snapped back, “What more can I do? I gave you everything!”. “Except a child!”, he shouted, then he realized what he’d just said and lowered his gaze to the floor, his anger vanishing in an instant, “I spoke without thinking”.

Lucretia’s eyes were full of hurt and betrayal, “No. You speak your heart”, she whispered, then she walked out of the room. “Lucretia!”, he tried to call her, but she ignored him and he gritted his teeth in frustration, “Fuck!”.

As he stood there, stewing in his guilt and anger, she was called by Naevia. “Domina Flaminia seeks to meet you, domina”, the slave said. “Bless Jupiter”, the matron smiled and went to meet her friend at the entrance, “Flaminia, it warms heart to see friendly face”. “I bet, I saw Tullius leaving house a moment ago”.

“Yes, he came to speak with Titus and brought gift of honeyed wine…”, she trailed off as she saw her friend’s lips twist in a disturbingly cheerful smile. “He did?”, Flaminia let out a gleeful chuckle at that, but there was a cold and cruel undertone to it, “Bless Mars! I had prepared plan to make blame fall on his head, yet now I learn he helped in damning himself!”, she exclaimed.

Lucretia felt her insides churn without even knowing why, “What is cause for such joy?”. “Can you not see? Gods are on our side!”, the younger woman showed her the small vial she’d recently acquired, “Put this in wine gifted by Tullius. When it does its job, Titus will be gone and Quintus will no doubt seek vengeance for murder. He will not hesitate in helping me get rid of Tullius for good and Gaia will be avenged, as will be all the slights Tullius committed against this house”.

“You would do **this** for Gaia?”. Flaminia’s gaze softened as she stroked the matron’s cheek tenderly, “For Gaia, for you and for Quintus. The three of you are family to me, more than my own parents have ever been and there is nothing I would not do for you”.

Lucretia’s eyes filled with tears at those words, “I wish I had daughter like you”. “And I wish I had mother like you. Now go and set plan in motion”. She nodded, “Gratitude, Flaminia”. “My pleasure, Lucretia. See you tomorrow”, Flaminia concluded, placing a kiss on her friend’s forehead and leaving the house.

888888888888

A week later, the Sun rose to bring another heart-wrenchingly bitter and painful day for Quintus Lentulus Batiatus, who had lost his father to poisoned wine: despite their many disagreements and the arguments of the latest days, he still loved his father much and the loss cut him deep, his grief feeding his hatred and desire for revenge against the one he considered as the murderer.

As was custom, a wake was kept in the main room of the house and Titus’ corpse was placed in a small but luxuriant sedan in the centre of the room, surrounded by small burning braziers filled with aromatic wood and spice. While Quintus was lost in his thoughts, eyes fixed on his father, magistrate Sextus came to stand beside him.

“It is a heavy thing, to see a father so strong in life unable to rise”, the magistrate said in a low and respectful tone. “The weight of it keenly felt”, the lanista replied. “Titus was much loved by the city. Hold comfort in the knowledge”, Sextus said, then bowed his head and rejoined the other guests.

Lucretia immediately went to her husband, “Magistrate himself pays respects. It’s a great honor”, she whispered, trying to comfort her mourning husband. “For my father. Years I’ve wished for blistering tongue to cool, only to long for its scorching once more”, he added sadly.

“I know you did not wish him gone in such a manner. Nor did I, despite our many differences”, his wife lied, though she could not keep a smile from appearing on her lips, “Perhaps the Gods wished it”. “The Gods had no fucking hand in this”, he whispered back, his voice full of anger, “Tullius alone inflicts injury”, he turned as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and met Flaminia’s eyes.

“Whatever you need, Quintus, know that you can rely on me”, she said, hugging him and he let himself be held for a long moment, taking comfort in her presence. “Gratitude”. As they parted, Kerovas stepped forward and bowed his head, “My sympathies, dominus”, he said sincerely and Quintus gave him a grateful nod and on an impulse, clasped his forearm. “You are good man, Kerovas”. The slave was taken aback by that display of friendship at first, then smiled and returned the nod.

The moment was spoiled by Solonius, “Apologies. Unwelcomed guest makes appearance”, he whispered, turning towards the door and as the other four followed his gaze, they saw none other than Vettius walking in.

Quintus’ lips curled in a snarl, “Vettius!”, he moved to meet the boy, but Flaminia grabbed his arm and slowed him down. “Do not make scene, Quintus”, she murmured, “Remember that magistrate is here and confrontation would not be seen favorably in such circumstances”. He did not like it, but took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down as much as he could, “Fine”, he agreed, as Vettius came to stand before him.

“Good Batiatus”, Vettius began, feigning sadness, “My sympathies for the passing of your father. A titan, standing far above those who follow”. “You come absent Tullius. I did not think him man to keep to himself on such a tragedy”, Quintus snapped, blue eyes flashing. “Well, he confers with dignitaries from Antioch”, the brat explained and could not help a small mocking sneer curving his mouth.

“Antioch?”, Solonius repeated, surprised. “He is engaging business there, to further glory of the Republic. He sends his regrets that he cannot be present. And a reminder”, he added, “Of the bargain that was struck with your father before he passed, concerning the sale of Gannicus”.

Batiatus’ fists clenched in fury at his sides, “You dare broach subject on such a fucking day!”, he growled, trying to take a step forward, only to be held back once again, this time by Kerovas. “We have respectfully waited for **eight** of them to pass”, the boy spat, “Your period of mourning comes to conclusion. Tomorrow will greet the ninth day and with it we **expect** delivery of Gannicus”.

Quintus was shaking with rage, “Turn desire to piss and shit and see yourself well satisfied!”, he hissed. “Then Tullius will be forced to withdraw offer to include your men in the opening games of the new arena. And all that follow”, Vettius threatened, then he turned on his heels and left.

Flaminia took Quintus’ hand in hers, “Do not let his threats weight on heart, Quintus: as you may remember, I have already made deal with magistrate to include your titans and good Solonius’ as well in opening games of the new arena”, she told him in a soothing tone, “Vettius’ words are naught but worthless shit”. “This cannot go unpunished”, he snarled and she smiled. “It will not, friend. But now is not time for such talk: first, we have one last duty towards your father to do”.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the tears at the prospect of saying his farewell to Titus, “As always, you are voice of reason, dearest. I will have gladiators build the pyre. And I trust you will spend night in our house: knowing you are here will be great comfort to us. It goes for you as well, Kerovas”, he added.

The Roman woman nodded, “Of course we will stay. I could never leave you in such a moment”, she reassured him, then added as an afterthought, “I would have words with Ashur before retiring for the night, if it is not bother: he won several fights in old arena, but opening games are different matter and I want to give him instructions for such important event. After all, he fights for honor of my house as well as yours”. Quintus nodded, “As you wish”, he agreed, for though he suspected the truth well enough, he did not want to deny her that joy.


	21. A dangerous gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The House of Batiatus pays the final respects to Titus and a plan is set in motion to get revenge against Tullius.

As the Sun set, a pyre was built on the sands of the ludus, right on the edge of the cliff and Quintus stood with his back to it, wearing a simple-cut black tunic and equally black sandals. At his left, feigning sadness for the old goat but feeling honest sympathy for her friend’s pain, was Flaminia, who was dressed in black like him. At his right was Oenomaus, looking quite sad at the loss of his first dominus. All of the gladiators were lined up in a semicircle, facing the two Romans and their doctore.

On the balcony, wearing a long black dress, stood Lucretia and with her were Kerovas, Melitta, Solonius and the guests who had come to pay their last respects to the old lanista, all likewise clothed in black and a heavy silence weighted on them all.

“We have known the agony of heart wrenched yet beating from chest”, Quintus began his speech, “And yet, here we stand. The House of Batiatus is no stranger to misfortune, to the cruel whims of the Gods and of base men who would position themselves as such and yet, **here we stand**!”, he repeated, his voice rising with anger, then he composed himself and went on in a calmer tone, “This House is built on top of unshakable foundations of honor and respect and no man of these qualities is more evident than Titus Lentulus Batiatus.

I will honor the memory of my father by seeing the House of Batiatus elevated beyond the imagery of my ancestors! And I will need all of you to see it done”, he addressed the gladiators, “Men of heart with purpose and desire! Let previous decisions fall aside: none of you will be sent to the mines, regardless of standing”, he added.

A couple of gladiators let out a silent sigh of relief at that. “Sun has set a new era. Let us celebrate the name of Titus Lentulus Batiatus with drink and the clash of swords, to carry my father to the afterlife!”, Quintus shouted and Oenomaus made his whip snap on the sand and gave the order. “Take position!”.

“Spill blood upon the sands, but live, to one day die with honor and glory in the arena”, the dominus said, as six gladiators took their place on the sand in pairs, swords and shields at the ready. The chosen fighters were Crixus fighting Gannicus, Ashur fighting Gnaeus and Dagan fighting Barca. Doctore handed the torch to light the pyre to Quintus, who took it and clasped the other man’s forearm in a gesture of friendship and gratitude, before igniting the wood. “Begin!”, Oenomaus said and the battle began.

888888888888

“This is all that remains”, Quintus murmured sadly, touching a stack of parchments left by his father on his desk, “When the smoke clears and the embers die…Some measure of a man’s life”, he sighed as he took up one piece of parchment in particular, the contract to sell Gannicus to Tullius, “This was my father’s last act: a bill of sale to transfer your ownership”, he told Gannicus, who stood in front of the desk.

The Celt said nothing, but he wished to leave the House of Batiatus for good, as his love for Melitta was becoming too strong to ignore and so was his guilt at having such feelings for his best friend’s wife, unreturned as they were. “To honor my father’s wishes, I should hand you to man most hated. Doing so would see me losing finest man of this House. Refusing would see me removed from games. Cock in ass from both directions”, the lanista said, clearly pissed off.

“I have solution to this problem”, Flaminia spoke up, entering the study with a sweet smile, “Tullius deprived you of father, he wishes to deprive you of champion as well and he even had the gall to send Vettius to shit on your pain. I say retribution is well deserved for his crimes”. Both men looked at her with wide eyes: Quintus was intrigued, while Gannicus was a little scared, as for the first time since he’d met her, he sensed something dark and dangerous behind that flawless beauty.

“Tullius is forever surrounded, not only by his own men, but by good citizens who would quickly come to aid…”, Batiatus began and she let out a soft yet cold chuckle that sent chills up their spines. “Oh, Quintus, such minor details are not enough to stop me. I already have plan to make Tullius pay and to ensure that Vettius will not bother us ever again”. The lanista bit his lower lip, “Share it, then, that I may better understand”.

“The deal would see Gannicus sent to Vettius’ ludus in Nola, as Tullius wants and I say we must use this to our advantage, to lure him into trap. Gannicus, we will need your help in this matter”, she looked the Celt straight in the eye and the gladiator swallowed nervously, “Can we count on you, **champion**?”. He nodded, “Yes domina”.

“Good. Now come, we will need Solonius to assist as well”, she said, turning on her heels and following the corridor, until she found Lucretia and Solonius sharing a cup of water, “Ah, good Solonius, here you are! I need your help in important matter”. The man nodded, “Of course, I will gladly assist”.

“I have plan to see Tullius pay for deaths and pain he caused to this House”. He froze, “You’re speaking madness!”. Quintus frowned, “And what would good Solonius do in my position? Turn blind eye to murder of his father?”. “I would be certain to strike appropriate target! What if Tullius had no hand in this?”, he shot back.

“His gift of wine was tainted with death!”, Lucretia said quickly. “But was it by Tullius’ hand, or another? What if Vettius was the cause of this? His hatred for you is well known”. Batiatus nodded, “You’re right”, he agreed, before adding, “Vettius must not be left out, retribution must be taken against all of those who have slighted this House!”. Solonius shook his head in despair, “But…”.

Thankfully, Flaminia intervened, “Only Tullius and Vettius must be our targets: they are the only ones truly guilty for the pain you are suffering”, she addressed Quintus, “Think: Tullius is doing this because he wants Gannicus’ ownership to pass to his lackey! The two of them are our only true enemies, the ones we must get rid of”, she said, her voice warm and mesmerizing, “Without them to hinder us, the House of Batiatus will rise to the fucking Heavens!”.

He mulled over it and at length, he nodded, a slow smile curving his lips, “Yes. Yes, dearest, you speak truth”, he suddenly hugged her and kissed her cheek, “You are greatest blessing that Gods could bestow upon this House. Tell us of plan and see us set to task”.

“With pleasure”, the young woman smiled back and began illustrating them her scheme, while Solonius sighed and shook his head. But even if he considered it madness and was basically against all of it, he promised them his help, because despite everything, he would not let his best friend down.

888888888888

Ashur was walking to his cell to sleep, when Oenomaus called him. “Ashur, you are summoned”. “I am? Why?”, the Syrian asked, surprised. “All that matters is that you are. Now go”. “Yes, doctore”, he obediently followed the Numidian out of the ludus and then was led by Melitta into the house, to a specific bedroom. The house slave left and he knocked hesitantly on the door. “Come in”.

He entered and smiled as he saw Flaminia walking up to him, “You required my presence, domina?”, he asked jokingly. “Yes, I did”, she smiled back and locked the door, then wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with burning passion, “You cannot imagine how much I have longed for your touch these last days, my love!”.

“I think I can”, he purred, opening the clasps of her dress and moving his mouth to her generous breasts as soon as she was naked, “Every waking moment I long for you, every night I dream of you. I live for you, my goddess”.

“As do I for you. Oh, Ashur…”, she breathed his name as her hands moved to unfold his loincloth and then teased his most intimate parts and he let out a low throaty growl of pleasure that sent a warm shiver running through her.

They made love long into the night, losing themselves in each other, forgetting the world and its worries: only the two of them mattered in those precious, perfect moments.

Much, much later, they lay on the bed, snuggled together and basking in each other’s warmth and scent. “You will fight in the opening games of the new arena, my love”, she told him, stroking his cheek, “It is your opportunity to became champion at last”. He smiled and kissed her palm, “You did this for me?”. “There is nothing I would not do for you”, she said, smiling back.

“Flaminia, I…I have favor to ask of you”. “Of course, you need but to speak words”. “Dagan and Indus were… **Used** during orgy. If you could keep them safe from such…”. “Humiliation?”, she completed the sentence and he nodded. “Yes”. “I will do all I can to avoid them being abused again”, she promised, “Quintus will not deny such small favor to me”. “Gratitude”.

“My pleasure, beloved”, she sobered, “Ashur, I know you are friends with Crixus, but when you will both be on sands together, do not trust him. You may be brothers in the ludus, but I know what I saw in his eyes: he will do everything to become champion, even if it means turning against his own brothers. Do not trust him, I beg you”, she repeated and he was taken aback by the worry in her dark eyes.

“The only one I trust with my life is you, my goddess”, Ashur told her sincerely, “I will not lower guard around anyone on the sands, not even Dagan and Indus”. She relaxed at that, “Good. Gratitude”. “My pleasure”, he echoed her, winking and she chuckled.

“I must go back to ludus…”. “No, you can stay. It’s only for this one time, but I ensured that you will be allowed to stay until morning. We can spend the night together”. His heart skipped a beat with joy and he held her more tightly to his chest, locking his lips with hers in a sweet, tender kiss, “I love you”. “I love you too”.


	22. Ashes and bricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has come for Tullius to pay for his crimes

When morning came, Flaminia reluctantly dressed up and shot one last look at her beloved gladiator, “Sun rises too soon”, she murmured. Ashur smiled and slipped his arms around her waist, “There will be another night, my love”, he said, giving her a long kiss, “And I will carry memory of this night with me until my last day”. “So will I”, she smiled back and for a moment, she lost herself in his dark eyes, so warm and deep and shining with intelligence, “And now, I must go and make sure that everything is ready for tonight”.

He blinked, “Tonight? I can come back so soon?”, he asked, puzzled and she chuckled. “Sadly, no, beloved: I have other business to attend to after Sun sets”, she explained, “Someone needs to be shown their proper place”. He grinned, “It enflames my heart to see such fire in your eyes”. “It’s the fire of vengeance”. “I know. And I love it”, he was about to kiss her again, when someone knocked on the door and Kerovas’ voice came from outside.

“Flaminia, come on, breakfast is ready”, the bodyguard called. She huffed, “Ah, fuck! Coming!”, she called back, opening the door and shooting one last smile at Ashur, “May your day be as bright as this Sun, my love”. The gladiator nodded, “And may revenge taste as sweet to you as your kisses taste to me, my goddess”. Kerovas shook his head with a fond smile, “Enough you two, or you will get caught”. “I know. Goodbye”, the Syrian bowed his head and left.

“Goodbye”, Flaminia answered, then she followed her bodyguard along the corridor, “So, brother, is everything ready?”. “It is”, he sighed, “I pray you know what you’re doing, sister: if this plan fails, you will all be as good as dead”. She snorted, “It cannot fail! I planned every detail with utmost care”. They joined Batiatus and Lucretia for breakfast and the three Romans discussed the plan one more time, deciding that Ashur, Indus, Dagan and Crixus would not take part to it.

Quintus frowned, “Why not them, dearest?”, he asked Flaminia. “Simply because two of them are my property and the other two have potential for greatness and it would be shame to risk them being damaged before they even got the chance to bring honor to your House”, she answered with a shrug, though in truth she did not want to risk putting them in danger in case anything went wrong with the plan. “I see”.

“And of course, Kerovas will stay here as well”, she added and her bodyguard started. “What? But…”. “You will stay here”, she repeated softly, looking him straight in the eye, “I will not be in danger anyway and I will feel better knowing that you are here, watching over this house”. He bit his lower lip, conflicted, but he knew well enough not to argue with her when she got like that, “As you wish”, he reluctantly agreed and she smiled. “Good”.

“You should stay here as well”, Lucretia addressed her friend, frowning with worry, “I do not feel at ease knowing that you are putting both life and reputation at stake to…”. “To avenge the death of someone we loved and who was too soon taken from us, in horrible way”, the younger woman cut her off, “I know what I’m doing, Lucretia, do not let heart be seized by unnecessary worry”. “If you are sure”. “I am”. Batiatus huffed, “I still fail to see why I should let Solonius claim ownership over all of Vettius’ men”, he muttered and Flaminia suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

“Because”, she said in a patient tone of voice, “This is sign of good will on your part towards good Solonius, to ensure you his lasting loyalty and to avoid rivalry between the two of you to get out of hand. Besides, Vettius’ gladiators are worthless shit and they would be nothing more than burden to your ludus, being so ill-trained and ill-mannered. Nothing good could ever come to you from acquiring them, so it’s best to let them be someone else’s problem”.

He was taken aback by her reasoning, then smiled at her with fondness and admiration, “Ah, Flaminia dear, you always think of everything”. She smiled back, “I only have best interest of this House at heart, you know this, Quintus”, she said and it was only a half-lie, since she truly cared for their wellbeing, even if she had her own agenda.

Naevia came from the door with a rolled up parchment in hand and addressed Flaminia, “A messenger brought this for you, domina”. The Roman girl took the parchment and unrolled it, a small smile gracing her lips as she read, “It seems like Gods approve of our course of action, for they already send us reward”. “What is it?”, Batiatus asked, curious.

“If my guess is correct, parents will be back by tomorrow morning and senator Albinius will be with them: he wants to make preparations in his house here in Capua for me and the heir he expects me to produce”, she answered, “This is great opportunity for your House: after seeing for himself the greatness of your titans in opening games of the new arena, it will be easy to convince him to patronize the ludus”.

His eyebrows shot up, “You think he would?”. “I am sure he will”, she replied with a dangerous glint in her eyes, “But let us not dwell too much on it now: we have more pressing matters to attend to”. “Of course. I will send word to Oenomaus to get the gladiators ready when Sun sets”.

888888888888

Evening came and according to the plan, Solonius went to Tullius’ shop looking worried and humble and told Tullius and Vettius that despite the deal that was struck with his father, Batiatus was making Gannicus leave Capua for good right then. The merchant didn’t take it well, roaring with fury and toppling over a small table in his blind rage, then stood in the middle of the shop breathing heavily while his lackey sneered at Solonius. “News absent surprise: a snake by nature favours maneuvering upon its belly”, Vettius commented spitefully.

“I will stand upright”, the older lanista replied, “Like honorable man”. “Where does he take Gannicus?”, Tullius asked, a little calmer. “Batiatus sent me to secure means for his man to get out of the city. By morning, Gannicus will be on a ship sailing to place unknown, forever beyond your reach”. “You aided Batiatus in this?”. “I’ve known the man for many years”, Solonius said, wringing his hands and looking at the ground, “I was…Conflicted”.

“As am I”, Tullius hissed, stepping forward and pushing the other man back, where one of his slaves grabbed hold of him, then he took a knife from the nearby shelf and pressed it against Solonius’ cheek, “On whether to strip flesh from your fucking face!”. “Wait! I came to aid you in this!”. “After the fact!”, Vettius snapped.

“There is still time, he meets the trader at edge of the city”. Tullius mulled over it and calmed down fully, putting the knife back on the shelf, “Very well. You will lead us there. Gather the men!”, he ordered to his slave, who let go of Solonius and left. “I cannot believe even Batiatus so thick to imagine concealing such an act!”, Vettius spat. “He will spin story”, Solonius explained, “Of Gannicus escaping, perhaps to follow Diona, another escaped slave”.

“He thinks me the fool to accept tale?”, Tullius frowned. “Batiatus knows you will summon him to meeting to discuss the matter”, the lanista said, “He lays plan to see much coin in your men’s hands and pay them to take your life while he stands before you”. Vettius laughed, “A fucking cock on him!”, he commented, a bit impressed despite himself and Tullius joined his laugh.

“Batiatus always thought of himself above those around him”, Solonius said in a low and sad tone, “Even closest friend”. “I shall prove his beliefs false and see fucking son join his father”, Tullius assured him, his own tone poisonous.

888888888888

Batiatus, Flaminia and Gannicus, along with Barca and Fulco, stood in the small courtyard where the meeting would take place, while Rhaskos and Gnaeus waited at the other end of it, concealed by the darkness. Here and there, shots of lightning broke the solid grey of the sky above their heads and the young woman smiled. “Jupiter shows us his blessing”, she commented, pointing at another flash of white shooting among the clouds.

After a minute, Tullius, Vettius and seven slaves armed with swords came from the only other entrance to the courtyard, a side alley leading to the main square. Solonius came from the alley as well and gave his friends a subtle nod, though his face remained impassive. “I grow weary of these games, Batiatus”, Tullius said with his usual slimy smile, completely unaware of the two gladiators waiting in the shadows behind him, “I would see them to bitter end”.

“As would I”, Quintus replied and at that, Gnaeus and Rhaskos came forward and unsheathed their swords with dangerous grins, while Gannicus let his open chains fall to the ground.

Tullius slipped a dagger from a hidden pocket and moved to attack Batiatus, but his blade met another one, wielded by none other than Flamina, who smirked. “Wrong move, Tullius”, she growled, then she pushed him back and slashed at his right calf, making him lose his balance and fall to his knees. She knocked him out with a kick to the face, then let out an enthusiastic shout and jumped into the fray to fight his men.

Barca was wounded by one of the enemies and Batiatus, pissed off at seeing that sad display from one of his best gladiators, moved behind the enemy and stabbed him in the back of the head, then kicked him repeatedly when he fell, “Fucking bastard!”. The furious battle was quickly over, but while Tullius’ slaves were killed, the merchant himself and Vettius were not. And in Tullius’ case, a quick death would have been a better fate.

He was bound and dragged to the new arena, down in the foundations, where two more of Batiatus’ gladiators, the hispanic Lydon and the greek Plenus, were busy removing the bricks from the wall to open a niche wide and high enough for a person to fit in. Flaminia tossed a bowl of cold water in Tullius’ face to wake him up and as soon as his eyes opened, Quintus squatted in front of him. “So, here we are”, the lanista said coldly.

The merchant smiled despite the crusted blood on his face, “A game well played, Batiatus”, he said, trying to sit up, “Now, let us come to terms. Your man Gannicus obviously means a great deal to you, to press you to such extremes. I will see you well rewarded for him”. “Offer more”, Quintus said, his face impassive. “I will see your House take prominence in all the upcoming games!”, Tullius offered, doing his best to smile friendly.

“More”. “Speak desire and see it attended”. “I desire to see you suffer as I have suffered to your fucking hands”. “Your suffering has only begun, lanista!”, Tullius spat, his friendly façade turning into a mask of outrage, “When it is discovered what you have done to me…”, he was cut off by Flaminia’s cruel chuckle. “You think word of this will spread outside this place, Tullius?”, she said in a mocking tone, squatting by Quintus’ side with a cheerful yet cruel smile, “Such fool, isn’t he, Quintus?”.

“Indeed, dearest”, Batiatus nodded and turned back to his prey, “You will not be discovered, nor missed! Solonius will convince young Vettius to offer proper explanation for your disappearance”, he explained, enjoying the sight of Tullius’ eyes widening in horror. “Vettius?”. The lanista stood, as did the woman by his side, “Oh, city will mourn! Soon your name will be spoken of less and less, until it is lost to history”.

“I should have ended your life at the beginning of this”, Tullius said, though his voice was slightly shaking now as he scrambled pitifully trying to stand, “The mistake was mine, having stayed hand in respect of your father”.

That was his final mistake.

“Respect?”, Quintus repeated, then gestured to Fulco, who carried a small satchel containing Titus’ ashes and as soon as the bag was in his hands, the lanista took a handful of ashes out of it and showed it to Tullius, “Say it to the remains of the man himself”, he growled, then bent and shoved the powder into the merchant’s mouth, while Flaminia held their prey by the scruff of the neck, “You took him away from me with poisoned wine, taking his fucking life! Now tell him how much you respect him, you fucking shit!”.

A violent push and Tullius fell on his back, coughing and sputtering, “Why…Should I strike against your father?”, he panted, “He was an honorable Roman. A man who knew his place”. Finally Quintus smiled and it was not a nice smile by any means, “As I know yours”, he replied, pointing his dagger at the merchant. “There will be an accounting, Batiatus”, Tullius managed to stand, albeit shakily, “For this and everything that follows. The Gods will see to it someday”.

Quintus grabbed him by the collar, “But not this one!”, he shot back, stabbing his prey and Flaminia immediately followed suit, as did the gladiators, one by one. After each one of them had had their turn, Rhaskos and Gnaeus took the weak but still alive Tullius up and shoved him into the small niche that had been made in the foundations, then proceeded to replace the bricks, from the bottom to the top.

When only one was left and Tullius’ face was all that was still visible from the hole, Quintus stepped forward carrying the brick himself. “This arena was your life. Add to its foundations”, he growled and as he pushed the brick back in place, his vengeful snarl and his blue eyes filled with hatred and rage were the last thing Tullius ever saw.


	23. The opening games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new arena is finally completed and the first blood is shed upon its sands.

Morning came and after a quick breakfast, Flaminia left a message for her parents at home, asking them to meet her at the new arena and then walked out of the door, Kerovas and Nasir flanking her on each side as she hummed a merry tune under her breath.

She felt better than ever, despite the fact that she had collected some bruises and shallow cuts the previous night, as she fought with Tullius’ men, which was why she was now wearing a white dress with long sleeves to conceal the marks on her fair skin.

“You know, Flaminia, I think you are more excited about the games than even my brother is”, Nasir joked and she chuckled. “Ah, that would not be surprise: this is greatest opportunity he could ever have to show to all the good people of Capua his fighting prowess. Today he will become a god, a legend even!”, she exclaimed and her eyes shone with anticipation. Her bodyguard shot her a worried look, “You should not get so ahead of yourself, sister: what if he does not win?”.

“He will, I know he will: Ashur has the blood of a champion, he cannot fail”, the young woman’s smile widened as she saw Quintus and Lucretia approaching, accompanied by Melitta, “Good morning, friends”. “Good morning, dearest”, Batiatus answered, smiling back, “Your smile is brighter than Sun itself today”. “I cannot wait to see my gladiators on sand, they will obtain great victories, I am sure!”.

He laughed at her enthusiasm, “It warms heart to see you in good spirits. What of your parents? Have they arrived yet?”. “No, but they will meet us at the new arena, I left behind message for them”. He frowned, “But that is not what custom would dictate…”.

“Fuck custom and fuck manners too, Ashur will become champion today and I will be damned if I lose the exact moment when it happens!”, she shot back hotly, earning herself an alarmed look from Kerovas and Nasir.

Luckily for her, the lanista did not see her interest in the Syrian gladiator as a problem and chose to ignore the truth that lay behind her words, “Well, I can understand feelings: if your man becomes champion, it will bring great honor to your house”.

“And to ours as well”, Lucretia added, “She is the true owner, but he still fights for the House of Batiatus and this will earn us prominent position in all upcoming games”. Flaminia nodded, “Exactly. This is great opportunity for all involved”.

When they reached the new arena, they were led to the pulvinus, where only the most important people usually had the privilege to stay and Batiatus’ eyes brightened with a mixture of happiness and pride at that achievement.

“Ah, welcome!”, magistrate Sextus greeted the new guests, “Come and take seat, the games will start soon”. “Ah, I’ve never beheld such a sight!”, Batiatus exclaimed, looking around himself. “The laurel crown of the Republic”, Sextus agreed.

“Its majesty is evidence of greatness of those who enjoy it”, Quinctilius Varus commented from where he was leaning on the railings at their left along with Cossutius. “It is a great honor to be invited by good Tullius”, Lucretia lied and her husband grinned. “One I fear undeserved, yet he is a difficult man to turn from, uh?”, he added.

“Fact well known to all present”, Cossutius agreed. “I’m surprised by his delay”, the magistrate said, “The opening of the new arena was the only subject of his talk, yet now he stands late at his own celebration!”.

At that moment, Vettius entered the pulvinus with Solonius in tow. “Apologies”, the boy said, looking a little pale, “Tullius regrets he will be absent altogether”. Cossutius frowned, “What could be cause of it?”, he asked. “Pressing concerns have risen in Antioch”, Vettius lied, “His departure was…Unexpected”.

“The arena would not exist without Tullius”, Lucretia commented, hiding her sadistic smile behind her fan, “We would not be standing here if it were not for his actions”. “We should withhold the celebrations until his return”, Batiatus proposed, knowing full well the truth.

Sextus nodded, “Agreed. I shall address the crowd”, he made to stand, but Vettius intervened. “Good Tullius said his instructions are to carry on with the games. This arena was a gift to his beloved city and he would not see misfortune stand in the way of giving it”.

“I appreciate this offer, well received. Come, hold Tullius’ place by my side”. “Again, I must offer apology”, Vettius’ smile was forced as he bowed his head, “I made preparations to follow Tullius to Antioch”. “And what of your ludus?”, Batiatus asked, sharing a quick look with Solonius, who gave him a subtle nod. “I am retiring from the lowly call of the lanista”, the boy’s voice gained a spiteful edge, though he paled as he caught Flaminia’s glare.

“What will become of your men?”, Cossutius asked, curious. “Solonius and I have come to terms: I transferred deeds to all of my gladiators to him and under his honored banner they will fight this day”. Quintus and Solonius once again shared a triumphant look, the plan had been a complete success.

The magistrate was impressed, “You made good deal, Solonius! Your ludus now stands above all others in number”. “May Gods always show favor”, the older lanista said, feigning humbleness. “I have to take my leave now”, Vettius spoke up, trying hard to hide his fear as Solonius put a hand on his shoulder. “Come, I will see you out of here”, he told the boy in a deceptively friendly tone.

When he came back, he, Quintus and Lucretia sat in the row behind that of the magistrate, but Flaminia refused to take a seat and instead decided to stand close to the front railings. “Apologies, magistrate, but my heart burns with desire to see games from as close as possible”, she said with a sweet smile. “I fully understand feelings, beautiful Flaminia. And what of parents and husband, will they join us?”. “As soon as they can”, she assured him.

Before the beginning of the games, an execution would take place and among the escaped slaves about to be killed, she recognized Diona, one of Batiatus’ house slaves. Cossutius recognized her too and turned to her owner, “Isn’t she one of your own, Batiatus? The girl on the left. What was her name…”. “Diona!”, Melitta whispered, horrified and he laughed. “Diona, yes”.

“Apologies, Batiatus”, the magistrate said, “The girl was only added to the round this morning. If you wish her removed, you could deal with her personally”. Quintus opened his mouth to refuse, then he met Flaminia’s gaze and changed his mind, “I would appreciate it, magistrate. Girl will receive proper punishment at my own hands”.

“Very well”, Sextus stood and gave orders to free Diona and have her brought back to Batiatus’ house, then sat back down and the execution went on as if nothing had happened.

When the bodies were removed from the sands, trumpets blew and magistrate Sextus addressed the crowd. “The sands moisten with our first offerings of blood”, he said, “But more is demanded on such a day. And you shall have it!”. The crowd exploded in a deafening cheer at that, like the roar of a hungry wild beast craving for its meal.

“The Houses of Solonius and Batiatus will battle each other in deadly contest! No mercy shown, no quarter given! The victors all will face each…IN THE PRIMUS!”, he shouted, making the crowd roar even louder than before. Flaminia’s heart skipped a beat: her Ashur could reach the primus! That would make him a god to the eyes of all Capua, though in her eyes he already was the greatest of all gods.

After that announcement, it was time for the first match, which would see Crixus fight for the House of Batiatus: the Gaul had shaven his beard and cut his hair in a close-cropped hairstyle as per Lucretia’s instructions, since she could not bear to mate with him as long as he resembled what she called ‘a fucking animal’. The matron had started mating with him a week before, in the hopes of getting pregnant and finally being able to give her husband the much craved heir, but so far she had had no luck.

Crixus fought against a gladiator formerly of Vettius’ stable, a burly man who was good, but unfortunately for him, not good enough to withstand the full force of the Gaul’s thirst for glory: the man was impaled on Crixus’ gladius like a boar about to be roasted and Batiatus let out a shout of triumph at that victory. He was still a little bitter that Barca’s injuries from the previous night did not allow the famed Beast of Carthage to fight in the opening games, but as long as his other men triumphed on the sands, he was satisfied.

Flaminia didn’t really care either way, but when the next match began, she leaned over the railings with a mixture of eagerness and worry, for it was Ashur’s turn to step on the sands.

His opponent was tall and strong, but the Syrian was quicker, more agile and his veins were filled with fire at the thought that his beloved was watching him from the balcony: he pressed on his attack relentlessly, raining blow after blow with both his sword and his own shield on the other man’s shield, until he finally managed to push it out of the way and seized the chance to slash at his opponent’s throat, landing a clean cut that opened the neck from left to right and nearly chopped the head off.

“YES!”, the young woman shouted with joy, leaning forward even more, to the point that she would have fallen if Kerovas hadn’t been quick to catch her by the arm, “My Ashur is the best!”. “ **Your** Ashur?”, her father’s voice startled her, “What is meaning of it?”. She whirled around to meet his eyes and panic gripped her as her mind raced for an answer, but Quintus spoke up to take her out of trouble. “She patronizes him and Indus, so that she can have gladiators fighting for honor of your house”, he told Janus, “And it proved to be wise choice, for Syrian has showed great potential”.

Senator Albinius entered the pulvinus and immediately moved towards his wife with an eager smile, “Ah, my wife, you are sight for sore eyes”, he said, trying to kiss her, but she stepped away under the pretense to take a goblet of wine.

“It gives me great joy to see you here, dear husband”, she lied, “Here, have some wine: journey must have been long”. “So it has”, the old man agreed, accepting the goblet and taking a seat beside the magistrate, “So, you own two gladiators? I was not informed of it”, he added, his voice gaining an edge.

“It was deal I made before marriage”, the young woman explained, “I used my own coin for it and as you can see, it was coin well spent: Quintus’ ludus turned simple untrained recruit into great gladiator”, she added, gesturing towards the arena and turning just in time to catch Ashur’s gaze before he re-entered the room where the gladiators waited for their turn.

He acknowledged her with a nod and despite the distance between them, he could easily recognize the smile full of love and pride that curved her lips and his heart swelled with happiness: the day was not over yet, but he had already achieved a great victory in the new arena and the woman he loved more than anything in the world had been there to witness his triumph.

As he stepped into the room and sat on a wooden bench to catch his breath and clean himself from the blood of his opponent, he shot a look at the dark blue ribbon tightly wrapped around his right forearm and smiled, silently thanking the Gods of his native land and the Roman Gods as well for granting him the gift of having her in his life.


	24. Blood and fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opening games go on in the new arena and the day takes an unexpected turn.

Match by match, as the day went by and the Sun disappeared beyond the line of the horizon, the number of the gladiators who would reach the primus dwindled, until only twenty-one of them remained: eight for the House of Batiatus (Gannicus, Crixus, Ashur, Dagan, Indus, Gnaeus, Narto and Duratius) and thirteen for the House of Solonius.

The older lanista could not help smirking, “It seems like I made good deal when I acquired Vettius’ stables”, he commented, “I have nearly twice the men than you in this final fight”. Quintus pressed his lips in a thin line and glared at his long-time friend, “Numbers are meaningless, a lesson you’re about to discover!”, he replied with fake cheerfulness, turning to shoot another glare at Flaminia, as she had been the one to convince him not to split the men from Vettius’ stable between himself and Solonius: he had lost some discretely good gladiators that day because of it.

Still, she smiled and nodded, “Quintus has a point, good Solonius: numbers do not always mean victory…As you yourself have seen in recent times”, she added, her voice gaining a dangerous undertone and Solonius shuddered slightly as he remembered the previous night, where Tullius and his men had been overpowered by a smaller number of fighters. “Yes, I…I do remember it well”, he said, forcing himself to smile back at her.

As darkness fell over Capua, torches were lit inside the arena, so that everyone could see the bloodshed clearly. While magistrate Sextus addressed the crowd to announce the beginning of the primus, in the bowels of the new arena Crixus moved to stand beside Gannicus, a hard look in his eyes as he spoke. “So at last we made it to the sands”, he said. “Among many others”, the Celt replied carelessly, adjusting his bracers.

“I give no shit about other men! I shall prove myself against you in proper contest!”. Gannicus frowned, “We face Solonius’ men, not each other”, he noted. “Only until they have fallen. Then we shall stand alone, **absent** all brotherhood”, Crixus stated coldly.

From where he sat on the bench next to the door, Ashur heard those words and remembered Flaminia’s warning about the Gaul: she had been right about the man, he thought and resolved himself to never lower his guard around Crixus from then on.

“Attend!”, Oenomaus called, causing the gladiators to regroup before him, “The dominus would have words”. Much to the men’s surprise, Batiatus walked into the room and moved to stand before them, his face set into an expression of grim determination.

“Everything we have dreamed of, suffered, died for, the worth of it all turns upon this single moment”, he said, pointing with his thumb towards the sands, “Face the House of Solonius as a single man. You stand outnumbered, but **not** outmatched! Only one man will claim victory this day and hold the title of Champion of Capua! And by the Gods, **that man will be from the fucking House of Batiatus!** ”, he shouted and the men roared their approval, especially Crixus and Ashur, who wanted the title more than anyone else in the room.

As their dominus left, they all put their armour on, wielded their weapons and shields and steeled themselves for the upcoming fight, the most important fight of their lives until that day. Trumpets gave the signal for them to walk upon the sands, while from the opposite side of the arena Solonius’ men came forth, all of them wearing white-plumed helmets and equally white clothing. Batiatus’ men wore red instead, in obedience to Lucretia’s instructions, as she wanted to honor Gaia’s memory by having the gladiators of her House wear her friend’s favorite color.

Magistrate Sextus stood to address the crowd once more, as the men of both Houses lined up before the pulvinus, “Many have fallen this day. Many have died, their blood staining the sands. Yet this arena towers above all others in the Republic! It is a vast beast and yet it hungers!”. The viewers roared like the aforementioned beast, for they too hungered for the carnage that would soon happen before their eyes.

“Two great Houses face each other, yet every man must ultimately stand for himself and himself alone!”, he said and nodded to the attendants in the arena, who brought some amphorae of oil and poured it on the sands to create a more or less circular boundary around the puzzled gladiators. “What are they doing?”, Lucretia asked, frowning.

“They’re pouring oil on the sands”, Flaminia answered, her heart hammering madly in her chest as she could easily guess what was about to happen and she feared for Ashur’s safety now more than ever.

“Fire burns within their breasts”, Sextus said loudly for everyone to hear, “And it is fire that shall find them in final contest!”, he added as an attendant lowered a torch to the oil, the flames spreading with frightening speed to form a blazing ring around the men, many of whom shot worried looks at the fire.

Ashur, for his part, looked straight at Flaminia and when he felt the warmth of the flames caressing his skin, a small yet tender smile curved his lips, as he found himself thinking of how closely linked her name was to the element which now surrounded him, just like her arms had been around him during their lovemaking.

“Hold to the sands beyond the flames, or find yourself removed from the primus”, the magistrate went on, this time addressing the gladiators, “Fall within them and be removed from this world. Take position!”. They obediently moved to form two teams, facing each other and Ashur found himself flanked by Indus at his right and Dagan at his left.

“Let us show these cunts our strength, brother”, Dagan told Ashur with a confident smirk, speaking in Latin as he had learned to speak the language perfectly thanks to his young countryman. “With pleasure, brother”.

“Reach Heaven with the sound of your fury!”, the magistrate shouted, raising his fist, then he lowered it with a quick gesture, “BEGIN!”. With war cries and roars, the two teams charged forward and the battle began.

While their brothers thought only about themselves, Ashur, Indus and Dagan fought as one, protecting each other and combining their attacks to better defeat their opponents and between the three of them, they managed to successfully get rid of seven of Solonius’ men: five were slaughtered inside the ring of fire, the other two were pushed out of it as soon as they were close enough to the borders.

Crixus for his part fought like a man possessed, dispensing kicks and slashes at every opponent who was so fool or unfortunate enough to get too close to him, until one of Solonius’ men managed to dodge his blow and retaliated by kicking him in the chest with such force that the Gaul flew a few steps back, dangerously close to the fire.

Ashur knew he should not care, but despite his misgivings, he still considered Crixus a friend and so, he ran forward and put himself between the two men just as the opponent struck, the spiked ball meeting the Syrian’s shield with a loud metallic sound.

“You will pay for this, fucking cunt!”, Ashur snarled at the white-clad man, who raised his weapon to strike again, only to be impaled from behind by Indus. “Surprise!”, the Macedon joked and the Syrian laughed, then turned to help Crixus up.

The Gaul did not even bother to acknowledge them though: quite the contrary, as soon as he was back on his feet, he pushed them roughly aside and charged like a madman towards the nearest opponent, as obsessed as he was by his desire to become champion.

“Oh, you’re most welcome”, Indus grumbled, annoyed, but he was not given time to dwell on Crixus’ ungratefulness, for two of Solonius’ men attacked him and Ashur, only to be slaughtered like boars. “We make a great team, brother”, the Macedon beamed and the Syrian nodded. “That we do, brother”, he agreed as Dagan rejoined them.

Eventually, all of Solonius’ men were either dead or disqualified, Narto and Duratius had died, Gnaeus had been kicked out of the circle and only five men remained standing inside the ring of fire: Ashur, Dagan, Crixus, Indus and Gannicus. They exchanged hesitant glances, none of them really wanted to attack his own brothers.

Well, **nearly** none of them: Crixus did not hesitate and with his sword poised to kill, he charged towards Indus, who barely had the time to raise his shield to avoid being beheaded and then found himself being pushed backwards, until he fell out of the ring with a look of shock on his face. “What…?”, he chocked out, eyes round as quarters: his friend had just tried to **kill** him!

Dagan and Ashur shared a look and then, as one, they retaliated by charging towards the Gaul with their shields up: they did not want to kill him or inflict him any serious injury, but they very much wanted to punish him for turning against a brother. And so, before he could even realize it, Crixus found himself falling flat on his face outside the ring, the title of champion now out of his reach and those he considered as inferior gladiators watching him with amused smirks on their faces.

“Apologies, brother”, Ashur said, his tone dripping sarcasm, “We mistook you for opponent, since you raised sword against one of our own”. “Fucking cunts!”, the Gaul roared, seething. Gannicus laughed out loud at that, “Move well executed, brothers!”, he complimented them, twirling his twin swords, “Now you only have to defeat me and then one of you shall become champion”.

The Syrians grinned at each other, then they attacked the Celt in unison, pushing him back with each blow and trying their best not to injure him, but Ashur frowned as he noticed that Gannicus was not really putting all of himself in that fight: to him, it seemed like the blond man was only putting on a show.

Before he could open his mouth to protest about that charade, Gannicus’ lips curved in a small smile as he allowed himself to be pushed out of the ring of fire. “What the fuck?!?”, Ashur snapped, pissed off, but the Celt just stood and shrugged with his trademark grin. “Title is yours to take, brothers. I am out of this”, he said simply, “Good luck”.

Dagan turned to his countryman, “It is only the two of us now, brother”. “Yes”, Ashur sighed, “I do not wish to cross swords with you, but we have to fight”. “That we do. But it need not be to the death”, the taller Syrian grinned and his friend instantly understood his meaning. “Indeed”. They took position, facing each other and they fought with all their ability as they did during their training in the ludus, putting up a convincing show but at the same time making sure not to land any fatal blow.

After a good fight that enflamed the audience, Ashur managed to catch Dagan off-guard: he struck with the flat of his blade at the other man’s knee and used his shield to push him to the side, causing Dagan to trip and fall out of the ring.

As the crowd roared louder than ever, it took the two gladiators a moment to realize what had just transpired, but when it sank in, Ashur’s face lightened up in a wide triumphant smile and he tossed his sword and shield aside to take his helmet off. “I am fucking victor!”, he exclaimed, laughing with a mixture of joy and relief as he turned towards the pulvinus to meet Flaminia’s eyes. She beamed like sunshine and let out a shout of delight, “YES! Ashur is champion!”.

“The House of Batiatus stands fucking triumphant!”, Quintus shouted as well, jumping to his feet, then shot a look at the magistrate, “Uh, ah, apologies”, he added sheepishly. Sextus was not offended in the slightest though and actually laughed at that enthusiastic display, “None required”, he replied, “I’m most impressed by show”. “I only honor this city and my champions continue to do the same!”.

“I have desire to have your man for my own games”, Cossutius said. “As do I”, Varus agreed, “Listen to how he ignites the crowd!”. The lanista shot a look at Flaminia, but she didn’t notice, as she was too busy chanting Ashur’s name at the top of her lungs, soon imitated by the crowd, until the entire arena resounded with the Syrian’s name. Where before the voices had been mixed in a wordless cacophony of bloodlust, now they were all united to repeat Ashur’s name over and over.

“ **Ashur, Ashur, Ashur, Ashur**!”, they all chanted and his heart swelled with pride as in that moment, he truly felt like a God, worshipped and revered by the mortals around him and especially by his beloved Flaminia, his beautiful, iron-willed, fiery Goddess.

Meanwhile in the pulvinus, senator Albinius was very much pissed off at seeing his wife so enthusiastically calling out another man’s name and wanted to get rid of that gladiator for good, so he spoke up addressing Sextus, “Would they not forever remember this day and the man responsible for this, if Ashur were granted freedom?”, he said.

Flaminia’s heart skipped a beat and for a fleeting moment, she actually looked at her husband with gratitude, instead of the usual mixture of disgust and hate that even the mere thought of him always invoked in her, “Freedom?”, she repeated, trying not to sound too eager, “I…I do not know…He stood upon the sands for the House of Batiatus as well as for the glory of the House of Lutatius today, so Quintus should have a say in this as well”.

“Well, I think it is an excellent suggestion!”, Sextus exclaimed, then turned to Batiatus, “You can always train another gladiator, yet, to conclude the opening ceremonies with such a blessing…”. Quintus hesitated, but as he met the young woman’s gaze, he knew what she wanted and so, he nodded, “As I said, I will honor this city”, he replied, sitting down and the magistrate turned to Flaminia. “What say you, do you agree to grant freedom to your man?”. “I do”, she did not need to think on it.

Sextus stood and gestured for silence and the crowd obediently shut up, “Ashur has proven himself to the city of Capua”, he declared, “Let him be rewarded, with freedom!”. The citizens shouted their approval, while Ashur gaped, stunned. “Freedom…”, he whispered and a new rush of joy washed over him: now he was the Champion of Capua and from that night on, he would be a slave no longer.


	25. One more step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flaminia’s plan is close to bearing fruit

As the Romans were walking home, Flaminia turned to her husband with a sweet smile, “Impressive and inflaming display, was it not, dear husband?”, she asked in a sugary voice. “Indeed it was, my wife”, he agreed. “I think we should celebrate this victory and those responsible for it: even if he is my own property, champion was still trained in Quintus’ superb ludus”, she added, sharing a brief look with Batiatus, who bit back a shrewd smile.

“Celebrating sounds good”, the senator commented, though from the lascivious grin on his lips it was clear what kind of ‘celebration’ he really had in mind, “Good Batiatus, why don’t you come to our home with your lovely wife, so that we may properly express gratitude to you for all the honor that was brought to our family this day?”. “I am humbled by your offer, senator and I accept with joy”, the lanista bowed his head with outward politeness, but inside he was rejoicing: their plan seemed to be working.

“Good, good. Janus, you agree with this, don’t you?”, Albinius then asked his (much younger than him) father-in-law and Janus was quick to give his assent. “Of course! It will be pleasure to have such dear friends once again at our home, just like old times. Oh and Quintus, my sympathies for the passing of Titus: he was good man and close friend and my heart aches at the loss”.

Batiatus flinched slightly, “Gratitude for words, Janus. It is not easy to get over such pain, but Flaminia’s presence and unwavering friendship have been great comfort”, he said. “She has been source of strength for us at every turn”, Lucretia added with a fond look at the younger woman, “I do not know what we would do without her support”.

Flaminia chuckled, “Oh, come now, I am but simple woman, not goddess”, she replied, her mind drifting to Ashur and her heartbeat increased its pace as she remembered his voice purring ‘ _my Goddess_ ’ in her ear during their lovemaking. She was brusquely and unpleasantly snapped out of it by a hand on her butt and she whipped her head around only to meet her husband’s eyes. “Yet, your beauty rivals that of a goddess”, he said in what was supposed to be a sultry tone of voice, but she felt only disgust and hatred.

“This is dangerously close to blasphemy”, she replied in a forcibly neutral tone, grabbing his wrist and removing the offending hand from her person, “And it is not appropriate for senator to indulge in such familiar behavior in public: if any of the good citizens of Capua should see you doing this, your reputation would suffer hard blow”.

He blinked, surprised, but then smiled, “You speak truth, dear wife. It warms heart to see that you have such strong grasp on property and modesty…As is proven by choice of clothing”, he added, gesturing towards her long-sleeved ankle-length dress, “Your dress covers more than normal”. “I do not want anyone other than man who holds my heart to enjoy sight of my naked flesh”, she answered with fake shyness.

The old lecher beamed, for he had no idea the man she was referring to was definitely NOT him, “And enjoy it he will”, he whispered to her. “So he will”, she agreed and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she said that.

When they reached the house of the Lutatius family, Janus led the guests to the main room, where they comfortably lounged on triclinia covered with impossibly soft pillows and enjoyed plenty of fine wine, all save Flaminia, because her husband forbade her to. Not that she cared, quite the contrary, she needed to keep her head clear to better manipulate the old bastard.

After the fifth cup of wine, she decided to begin her game, “You know, dear husband, what you saw this night was only a small taste of what the titans of the House of Batiatus can do. This ludus has given the republic some of the greatest champions of our history, did it not, Quintus?

Magnitius, Adrianus, Dolor, Acerbitas, Zenios, Plotium…And in more recent times, Oenomaus, Gannicus and obviously Ashur”, she listed, her voice taking on a slight note of pride as she said the last name, “I think that it would bring great prestige to our family if you, dear husband, were to officially patronize his ludus.

When all the republic will know the name of Quintus Lentulus Batiatus as that of the greatest lanista of our time, it will be to our advantage to be associated with his name, do you not agree?”, she concluded, battling her eyelashes at the senator with a flirty smile as the left strap of her dress ‘accidentally’ slipped down to reveal her naked shoulder.

“Well, having the favor of the citizens would no doubt be useful: too often someone in position of power falls from grace because of lack of support from the crowd”, he mused, worried about the recent clashes he had had with other senators who were more popular than him among the people, “And it is clear, from what I saw during the opening games, that good Batiatus knows how to properly lead a ludus. Yet, a senator of the republic consorting with someone of such inferior status as a lanista…”.

A flash of fury passed in her dark eyes, but she just kept on smiling, “Oh, if that is the only thing that stops you from accepting, I have solution to this vexing problem: you could grant Quintus a political position, nothing too high of course, but minor one, like…Like aedilis, perhaps. Yes, that would be perfect!”, she exclaimed, enthusiastically clapping her hands, “Then he would not be common lanista anymore and it would be no shame for us to patronize ludus”.

Both Quintus and Lucretia had to forcibly keep their mouths shut to avoid gaping like landed fishes at her words and the shameless way she was trying to elevate their position, yet the senator was too busy drooling over the tantalizing bits of flesh his wife was showing him to realize he was being played like a cheap lute.

“That is excellent idea, my beautiful wife! And of course it would bring more coin into our purse, which is always good”. “Of course, dear husband”, she purred, stroking his face despite her revulsion, “Heart swells with joy at knowing I have married such wise and clever man”. That was what sealed Albinius’ decision and he shot Batiatus a wide smile, “Well, good Batiatus, enjoy this night, for it is your last night as common lanista: tomorrow, you and I will leave for Rome, where I will officially grant you position of aedilis and…”.

“Why delay?”, the young woman intervened, “You can write down necessary documents right now, without need to leave Capua…And me”, she added, fearing that he could change his mind once the effect of the wine had worn off. “Your words have merit. So be it! Bring me parchment, quill and wax, so that I may seal deal”.

While one of their house slaves rushed to retrieve the requested items, Batiatus cleared his throat, “My gratitude for granting me this honor, senator Albinius”, he said in a fake humble tone, “I will prove myself worthy of it”. “I hope so”, the older man replied, “But if my wife puts such trust in you and your abilities, I see no reason to doubt them: she has proven to be wise and capable woman, taking care of her family business for years, am I correct, Janus?”, he asked his father in law, who nodded.

“Indeed she has”, he confirmed with a proud smile, “Gods have blessed us with clever and wise daughter, we could not have asked for better heir”, he said, though he could not help shooting a brief apologetic look at Kerovas, who sat on a small bench on the left side of the room along with Nasir.

Nobody else knew, but Kerovas was Janus’ son: his mother had been bought when she was still a girl and after many secret encounters, she had gotten pregnant of her dominus. Janus had, of course, not recognized the boy as his own blood, but he had still kept both him and the mother in his house and had the lad trained so that he could one day become his half-sister’s guardian.

Kerovas did not mind being virtually fatherless, though: his little sister loved him, cherished him and respected him even without knowing of their blood bond and he led a comfortable and safe life within the walls of the House of Lutatius. All in all, he was content with his situation.

When the house slave came back from the study, senator Albinius wrote down the formal document to grant Batiatus the (minor but still important) position of aedilis and signed it, then he let three drops of hot wax drip onto the parchment and pressed his signet ring on it to make it official. “Congratulations, Quintus Lentulus Batiatus: from this moment on, you are an aedilis of the Roman Republic!”, he announced solemnly.

Quintus took the parchment with trembling hands, he could barely believe his eyes and ears, “Gratitude, senator Albinius”, was all he managed to say, his throat closed in a tight knot with emotion as Lucretia beamed at his side. After that, they celebrated with more wine, until the Moon moved past the zenith and they decided it was time to go to sleep.

“Father, I ask for permission to escort Quintus and Lucretia to their home, along with Kerovas and Nasir: the hour is late and I would not rest easily, knowing that they walk the streets alone in the darkness”. Janus hesitated, shooting a quick glance at the senator, but then nodded, “Permission granted, but only if you bring Celadus with you as well”, he said, referring to his own satelles, who stepped into the room with a slight bow. “As you wish, father”, she nodded and the three Romans, along with the three slaves, left the house.


	26. Playing the strings

Once Flaminia had led her friends safely to their doorstep, instead of going straight back home, she asked to speak to Batiatus in private and he was more than happy to lead her to his study. “Everything went as planned”, she said once they were alone and he let out a joyous laugh. “That it did!”, he agreed, hugging her, “You are no mere woman, you are goddess! Because of you, now the House of Batiatus…No, no, the House of **Quintus Lentulus Batiatus** rises to the fucking Heavens!”. She laughed as well, “I promised to help you, did I not? I always keep my promises, Quintus, you know this”. “I know it well, dearest”.

“Now, only one minor detail remains to be addressed”, she said in a deceptively casual tone, “If you are to take position of aedilis, you will have to frequently leave Capua for Rome, so you need trusted man to lead ludus in your absence”. He sobered and frowned, “Yes…I had been so blinded by joy that I did not think of this. Oenomaus could…”.

“Oenomaus? He is good man, I do not deny it, yet he is mere slave and you cannot leave ludus in hands of slave”, she objected, “Besides, if he took position of lanista, he would ask for Melitta to be freed as well, meaning that you would lose excellent doctore and Lucretia would lose her body slave at the same time. And the fact that he is well suited for training gladiators does not mean that he is equally well suited to take care of business: balancing the books is no easy feat after all, it requires skills that I fear he does not possess”.

He mulled over it for a long moment, “Your words have merit. Yet, there is nobody I would trust better than him to take care of ludus in my absence”. “Why not Ashur?”. “ **Ashur**?”, he repeated, puzzled, “He is gladiator, how could he…”. “His skill is not limited to wielding a sword, Quintus: I have spoken to him and I have noticed that his mind is sharper than any blade”, she stated, “He taught Dagan to speak our language and he is also extremely good with numbers”.

“How do you know?”. She grinned, “I placed bets on many a fight recently and when I discussed odds with him, he calculated how much coin I would gain or lose depending on the outcome with such precision that I was tempted to hire him to help running my family business”. ”Really?”. “Yes. And tomorrow he will be free and he will officially gain citizenship, so you will leave ludus in hands of a Roman, not of a slave”.

Batiatus was impressed, “Well, if he is as good as you say, I see no reason not to follow your advice. So be it: tomorrow he will become a Roman and after that, he will become my lanista and take care of the ludus for me”. She beamed and hugged him tightly, “Gratitude for your trust, Quintus. You will not be disappointed”. “I know, dearest”.

“Oh, I have one last request: I would like to purchase Diona”. He frowned, “Diona? But she’s a fugitive!”. “And that’s precisely why I want her: none of our slaves has ever escaped and I relish challenge of curbing her rebellious streak”, she lied, “Besides, now that I’m wife and matron in my own right, I have need of personal body slave”.

“Uhm…If you think you can properly chastise her, then I have nothing against it”, Batiatus shrugged and wrote down the contract to pass the property of Diona to Flaminia, “Here you go: Diona is now officially your slave. I won’t charge you for it, of course: consider it as delayed wedding gift from Lucretia and myself”.

“Gratitude, Quintus”, the young Roman woman beamed and kissed his cheek, “I will not forget this kindness. And now, I’ll take my leave and let you go to your wife: I’m sure Lucretia is eagerly awaiting to celebrate with you”, she added with a mischievous wink and he laughed.

She bowed in farewell and on her way home, she stopped by a brothel to recruit a young and pretty girl to keep her husband busy for the night, for she knew he would want to lay with her and the mere thought of it made her want to throw up. When she reached her home, her parents were already asleep, but her husband was awake and as she had predicted, he was quite horny as well.

“Ah, my beautiful wife, you’re back at last”, he said, approaching her with an eager smile, “Come and let me enjoy your warm flesh”. “Truth be told, dear husband, I…I have confession to make”, she said, looking at the floor with fake shyness. “Confession?”. “I hope you will not think ill of me for this, but…Well…It would give me great pleasure to watch you with a house slave”, she murmured, bowing her head as if in shame, “The thought of her riding you as amazon would a wild stallion enflames me beyond words”.

He blinked, surprised, then his face spilt into a wide lewd grin, “You truly are perfection made flesh, my dear: a model of demure obedience and propriety in public, yet a shameless whore when alone with your husband! I made right choice when I took you as wife”, he commented, then he eyed the girl she had brought along, “Is this the one you chose?”. “Yes, it is her”.

“Uhm. You, undress”, he ordered and the courtesan obediently took off her vest, revealing a petite yet pleasant figure, “Well, she is pleasing enough to the eye, though I do not understand what you find so attractive in her”. “I like her hips and I’m sure seeing them bouncing as she rides you will make for an exciting view”. “If you say so”, Albinius shrugged, then he stripped and moved to lie on the bed, “Come here, girl”.

The young prostitute shot a look at Flaminia, who nodded. “Go to him”, she ordered, not bothering to hide a satisfied smile: by the time the girl was finished with him, the old bastard would be utterly spent and she would be safe from his attentions at least for that one night. She would still have to think of something to keep herself safe in the following nights as well, but one step at a time.


	27. Sweet freedom

When morning came, Ashur was summoned by Batiatus and as he walked up the stairs, he had to suppress a yawn: last night he had celebrated his victory with plenty of fine wine and good food, then he had tried to sleep, but the excitement for his impending freedom had kept him awake for many hours, leaving him with very little sleep.

He was led into Batiatus’ study by Melitta and when he got there, he was happy to find Flaminia waiting for him as well. “Dominus, domina”, he bowed his head politely, but could not hide his radiant smile as he met her shining eyes. “Ah, here is our champion!”, Quintus exclaimed, clapping him on the back, “You brought great honor to this House last night”.

“I live to serve”. “You won’t be serving for long”, the young woman spoke up, handing a luxurious blue toga to the gladiator, “Here, this is for you. Put it on”. The Syrian blinked, “Domina?”, he said, puzzled, though he obediently slipped the vest on. “We are going to the magistrate for your _manumissio_ , all three of us and I want you to look like a proper Roman when you get your freedom back, along with citizenship”.

His eyes widened with shock at those words and for a moment, he could only gape, “I…I will gain citizenship as well?”, he croaked out when he finally managed to find his voice again. “That you will”, she confirmed, her smile soft and warm and full of promises, “Ah, shit, toga is all crumpled up…”, without warning, she approached him and slid her hands gently on the soft fabric under the pretense of straightening out the wrinkles and he had to bite his tongue to keep his composure, “There, much better”.

“Gratitude, domina”. “My pleasure”, she replied, winking where Quintus could not see her, “Now let us go, I do not want to waste precious time…Also because there is another matter we shall discuss after this is settled, right, Quintus?”.

The newly-designated aedilis nodded with a mischievous smile, “Indeed, dearest. Ah, wait!”, he went to his desk and took a big coin purse, which he handed to the Syrian, “Here are your winnings from last night”. “Gratitude, dominus”, Ashur took the purse and hesitated when he felt its considerable weight, “How much…?”, he couldn’t help asking. “Two hundred and thirty denarii”.

He was dumbstruck and his jaw fell at hearing he now possessed that small fortune, it was more money than he had ever had in his life. Flaminia chuckled at the look on his face, “Why so surprised? Thirty denarii come from victory on the sands, the rest comes from your bet. Ah, but I see that emotions from last night’s triumph made it escape your mind”, she said with an amused yet warm smile, “Allow me to remind you: you bet two coins on yourself as victor of the primus and odds were a hundred to one against you”.

“I…Yes, now I remember”, he nodded, playing along: in truth, he had not placed any bet at all, but he could easily guess **who** had done it in his name. Batiatus chuckled, “A fool’s wager, yet one that paid well!”, he commented, “I hope that your skill for increasing coin will apply also to normal business”. Before Ashur could ask for an explanation, Flaminia intervened. “We will discuss it in magistrate’s office, let us go now”.

The two men nodded and followed her out of the house and onto the streets and while walking, they were accosted by many people who had recognized the champion and wanted to express their admiration for the impressive victory he had accomplished the previous night. It warmed his heart to be praised and flattered like that, when even a month ago he had been just a random nobody.

“It feels good, does it not?”, Batiatus asked him and he nodded. “It does, dominus”, he said, “And I would express gratitude for not sending me to mines and giving me chance to train with others: this victory would not have been possible had you not put such trust in me and my skills”. “I confess I was not that impressed with you at first, but our Flaminia here thought you had potential for greatness and insisted to patronize you. I merely trusted her judgment”.

“Oh, so you’re making all blame fall on me? That is hardly fair”, Flaminia joked, giving Quintus a playful shove, then she sobered as she saw they had reached their destination, “Here we are”. They were led inside the building and along a corridor lined with expensive sculptures until they entered the magistrate’s office. Sextus was there, along with a man in his fifties dressed in finery and with a kind face. “Welcome good Batiatus and beautiful Flaminia”, the magistrate said with a smile, “And of course, welcome to the Champion of Capua, the great Ashur!”.

The Syrian felt a rush of pride and happiness wash over him at those words, “Gratitude for kind words, magistrate and well met to you and your esteemed guest”. “He already speaks like a proper Roman”, Sextus commented, amused, “Allow me to introduce praetor Marcus Cornelius Lavinium, he will inscribe the champion’s name in the census”. The praetor nodded in greetings, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance”. “So, if everything ready? Let us begin, then”.

Quintus took out the contract of property of Ashur and spread it on the desk, “I, Quintus Lentulus Batiatus, hereby renounce the right of property on this man and I declare him a free citizen of the Roman Republic, with the name of Quintus Lentulus Quintii libertus Ashur”, he declared solemnly.

“And I accept this declaration and make it official in the eyes of the Republic”, the magistrate said, letting some hot wax fall on the parchment and pressing his signet ring on it to seal the _manumissio_ , then the praetor added Ashur’s new name in the list of the Roman citizens, “Congratulations, Quintus Lentulus Quintii Ashur: from now on, you are a citizen of the Roman Republic to all intents and purposes”, he announced, handing him the parchment along with the rudis, on which were carved the names of the opponents he had defeated in his brief but successful career as a gladiator.

The former gladiator, now a true Roman, could barely believe that it was truly happening and his eyes shone with undiluted joy as he took the parchment and the wooden sword, “Gratitude, magistrate and praetor. And of course, I express deepest gratitude to you, domi…”, he hesitated and Batiatus chuckled. “I am not your dominus anymore, good Ashur! Batiatus will do”. “Good Batiatus, you bear my gratitude. And so do you, Flaminia”, Ashur added, savoring the sound of her name on his tongue as he could finally speak it in public for the first time.

“It was my pleasure, good Ashur”, she replied, her smile radiant and at the same time tender, “But now, there is one more matter to attend to, right, Quintus?”. The former lanista nodded, “Of course. Since I have recently been appointed as aedilis, I have need of capable hands to lead ludus in my absence and I have chosen you, Ashur, as my lanista. Do you accept to assume mantle?”.

Ashur nearly fainted with shock, “I…I do, dom…Good Batiatus”, he stammered, “I am humbled by trust you place in me and I give you my word that trust will be proven well-placed”. “There is no doubt in my mind that it will”, Quintus replied with a friendly smile, “You have been recommended for role by trusted friend who only has best interest of my House at heart, after all. Now, let us make it official as well, shall we?”.

The magistrate took out a blank parchment and wrote down the contract, which was signed first by Batiatus and Ashur as patron and lanista respectively, then by Flaminia and the praetor as witnesses. Sealed the deal, Quintus clapped his hands, “And now, let us return to our House: the men need to know there has been a change in the lead”. With that, him, Flaminia and Ashur left the building as three free Roman citizens, when not an hour before they had entered it as two free citizens and a slave.

oxoxoxoxoxo

 ** _Manumissio_** _: it was the procedure through which a slave was granted freedom by their_ dominus _. There were different types of_ manumissio _, but in this story, the type used is the_ manumissio censu _, in which the slave was inscribed in the lists of the census as a free Roman citizen by a praetor. The freed slave took the_ praenomen _and the_ nomen gentilicium _of his former_ dominus _(in this case, Quintus Lentulus), then the_ praenomen _declined at the genitive form (Quintii) and their true name became their_ cognomen _(meaning that their birth name became their family name)._


	28. Shame and honor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has mention of non-consensual intercourse, so if it makes you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to skip the first part.

As they were passing by her home, Flaminia was called by her husband for what he said was ‘a very important matter’ and she had little choice but to follow him into the house. “So, what is this matter you want to discuss?”, she asked, hiding her irritation behind a smile. “You will know in a moment”, senator Albinius led her to their bedroom, then he locked the door behind himself and grinned, “I was starved for your touch and I could not wait until sunset to be in your arms”.

Her smile vanished and she felt her stomach clench as her gaze shot towards the door, “I…I am not sure it is wise, parents are home and they could hear us…”, she said, but he just slipped his arms around her waist. “Then we will try not to be too loud”, he replied, kissing her and she felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Her mind raced to find a way to avoid it, but she knew this time she could not escape his attentions and fighting him would not be a good idea, no matter how tempted she was to grab his neck and smash his head on the floor until it was reduced to a bloody mess.

She forced herself to hide her feelings and took her dress off, then she lay on the bed and he was quick to undress as well. “You are so beautiful…”, he said, taking in the sight of her naked body, “So young and healthy, I am sure you will bear me the heir I crave”. “I desire for nothing more than to have a family with the only man I have ever loved and will ever love”, she said sincerely, her thoughts drifting to Ashur and her heart swelling with love at the mental image of him cradling their child in his arms.

She was brutally ripped out of that daydream when her husband flipped her around, forcing her to lie on her belly and then he rammed his manhood into her with a grunt. She closed her eyes and tried not to focus on what was going on, to ignore the feel of Albinius’ flabby skin on her own, the smell of his sweat, the noises he was making. When it was over, he rolled off of her with a contented sigh, “Wonderful. Did you enjoy it too?”.

“Yes, dear husband”, she lied, swallowing hard, then she sat up and put her dress back on without looking at him, “If you would excuse me…I need some food to regain strength”. “We can have something brought to us”. “No, I do not wish to wait for it: I will get some myself”, she said in a rush, “May I bring a cup of honeyed wine for you as well?”. “Yes, gratitude”, he smiled and stretched, fully satisfied.

“Good”, she left the room, but instead of going to the kitchen, she locked herself up in a small closet, sat on the floor and curled up in a ball, finally free to let her tears flow: she felt dirty, violated and humiliated, not to mention guilty and ashamed for having been taken by another man. She cried for a long time, her face hidden in her hands, until a soft knock startled her, but she was glad to hear Nasir’s voice coming from the other side of the door. “Domina? Are you here?”.

She dried her cheeks and stood, then she opened the door, “Yes. What is wrong, Nasir?”. His gaze was soft as he took her hand in his, “I should be asking you this. Why are you of a mood?”. “He…He took me”. “Who…Oh”, the young man nodded, “Come. I will have a bath prepared for you, so that you may wash away every trace of him”. She shot him a fond and grateful smile as she followed him along the corridor to the bathroom, “Gratitude, Nasir”.

“I have been in your place, before you bought me. My former dominus required me to lie with him and I…”, he trailed off, a flash of pain and shame briefly crossing his lovely features. “How old were you?”. “Thirteen”. “I am sorry”. “Do not be: you saved me from his clutches and reunited me with my brother, you gave me my life and my own name back. I owe you much”. “Oh, I am not finished with you yet”, she said, brightening a little, “Tomorrow you will officially become a Roman citizen”. He stopped dead in his tracks, stunned, “What? How?”.

“The praetor is in the city for census and tomorrow he will pass by every house to write down the names of the citizens. When he reaches ours, I will have him inscribe your name in the list and you will become a free man. Ashur has already achieved freedom, this very day”. “Ashur is free?”, for a moment he nearly forgot to breathe in his joy, then he impulsively hugged her, “Gratitude. I will never thank you enough for all that you have done for us”. “My pleasure. You are family to me, Nasir, I want you to know this”. “And you are family to me, Flaminia”, he said, “Now come, your bath awaits”.

“Yes. Oh and please, have some wine brought to Albinius”. “I will”. “Nasir?”. “Yes?”. “How…How can I explain… **This** …To Ashur? How can I still look him in the eye, after…”, she trailed off and looked at the floor, tears once more running down her cheeks. The young man slipped an arm around her shoulders as they walked, “It was not your fault and he will understand. You should not blame yourself for something not of your making”.

“But I…I let myself be fucked by another…”. “You did not wish for it to happen, did you?”. “No!”. “Then you are blameless”, he reassured her softly, “In this matter at least, you were as slave and slaves cannot be at fault for what they are forced to do. Ashur is…Or at least he has been slave until this morning, so he knows better than most what it feels like when choice is removed from hands”. “I pray to Mars that you are right. Will you be there, when I have to tell him? Please”, she practically begged, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

“I will. Enough tears, now: you are stronger than this”. She sniffed one last time and shot him a small smile, “All right then. Gratitude for support”. “You’re welcome”. “Do not say word about it to Kerovas: if he knew how much this hurt me, he could…I cannot allow for it to happen: I still have need of husband, at least for a little longer”. “On my honor, nobody will know of this”.

oxoxoxoxoxo

In the meantime, Batiatus and Ashur stood on the balcony side by side, all the gladiators lined up on the sand before them watching expectantly. “Last night, one of your brothers has brought great honor to this House by rising above all other gladiators and becoming God! And the House of Batiatus rises still, for senator Albinius has granted us patronage and I myself have recently been appointed as aedilis!”, the lanista announced.

All the men cheered at that, for they knew that it meant more coin into their dominus’ purse and subsequently better life conditions for them all. He enjoyed it for a moment, then gestured for silence, “I have one more announcement to make. Today, Ashur, the Champion of Capua, has become a free citizen of our storied Republic and from this moment on, he is to assume mantle of lanista in my employ! Behold your new dominus: Ashur!”.

There was a moment of shocked silence, then Indus and Dagan let out a joyous roar and raised their wooden swords in a salute, shouting in unison, “Ashur, Ashur, Ashur!”, soon imitated by all the others, save Crixus. The Gaul refused to acknowledge the Syrian as his new master, not only because Ashur had, in his eyes, stolen the title that was rightfully his, but also because he felt that such a weak man was unworthy of being his dominus.

Ashur noticed the hostile look on Crixus’ face and felt a stab of sadness as he realized that their friendship had fallen apart, yet he was happy to see that at least Dagan and Indus were still on his side. “Dom…Good Batiatus, I wish to have words with the men”, the newly promoted lanista said, addressing his former dominus. “Of course, speak to them”, Quintus nodded. “Not from here, but in the ludus. I know I am not gladiator anymore, yet, I want the men to know I am still one of them”.

Quintus nodded with an approving smile, “I understand and it is good that you wish to keep connection to them: this will ensure that their loyalty will not waver. Go to them. Oh and remember to shave: now that you are Roman, you must look like one”, he added, giving him a friendly pat on the back. “I will, yes. Gratitude”, the Syrian bowed his head and left the balcony, then he took the stairs to the ludus and he stopped dead in his tracks as it dawned on him that this time, he was not descending those steps as a slave, but as a free man. No, more than that, as a lanista, as a **dominus**!

He was overcome by a sudden moment of dizziness at that earth-shaking realization and he had to lean on the wall for support, his head spinning like a hamster wheel as he closed his eyes and sent a prayer of thanks to the deities of his native land for that gift. An amused and warm smile curved his lips as he thought that he had another to thank for it: a goddess, or rather, **his** goddess. He was looking forward to seeing her again and to finally be with her as equals, just as she had told him the first time they had made love.

He pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the sands of the ludus, where he met his brothers, now his gladiators, “Well met, brothers!”, he addressed them, “As you have heard, I am your dominus now. Yet, I want you to know that this does not change anything between us: I am still one of you and you are still my brothers. I give you my word of honor that you will never be used again as sex playthings for the amusement of guests and I will make sure to improve the condition of your living quarters”, he added.

Indus raised his eyebrows, “Improve? How?”, he asked. “I will have beds, soft pillows and warm blankets brought to your cells”, Ashur answered simply, “I gained nice amount of coin with victory in arena, so I can afford to buy them. I know how uncomfortable it is to lie on cold, hard floor, I have experienced it myself and I do not wish for you to suffer such inconvenience any longer”.

“And what of wine and whores?”, Gannicus piped up with his trademark grin, “Will we still be allowed to enjoy them, dominus?”, he asked, winking as he said the last word and Ashur laughed. “Of course, you can indulge in such delights every time you have enough coin to pay for them. And if you behave, maybe you’ll get them even when you don’t have the coin”, he added, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Oenomaus approached him and bowed his head, “Never have I seen gladiator rise so quickly, yet I am glad that you were granted such privilege”, he said. “None of this would have been possible without your teachings, doctore”, the Syrian replied in all honesty, clasping his forearm and nodding to him, “I owe you much and I will see debt repaid”. “There is no debt between us, dominus, only the promise of future glory”, the Numidian said, but it was clear from his smile that Ashur’s words had pleased him.

Dagan walked up to his countryman with a wide grin, “So, am I to call you master and bow to you now, brother _?_ ”,. “You should…But I do not wish for it. I do not wish for any of you to call me dominus when it is only us”, Ashur said, making sure that all of the men could hear, “You will be required to refer to me as dominus only in the presence of Romans, to save appearances. But know that, no matter what, I am still same Ashur I had been until last morning”.

“You mean the same little cunt that swallowed piss at lunch during his first months?”, Barca asked jokingly. “More like the same little cunt who beat you in fair contest during competition arranged by former dominus’ father”, the young Syrian corrected him with a smirk and they all shared a laugh.


	29. A new beginning

“Flaminia!”, Janus’ voice came from the living room, heavy with anger and his daughter started at hearing it. “Yes, father?”. “Care to explain me why there is a fugitive slave in our hall, claiming that she is now your own property?”. Flaminia blinked, puzzled, then she remembered and her lips curved in a smile, “Oh, about time! I was wondering when they would deliver her. She is my new body slave”.

“You wasted coin on a fugitive?”, he asked, incensed. “I did not: I offered to pay for her, but after her near execution she has no value on market anymore, so Quintus transferred property to me as gift for my recent marriage”, she replied, barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

“Why did you want to purchase her? She is rebellious slave, she may slit your throat as you sleep!”. “That is unlikely: I would snap her neck before she could even unsheathe blade”, she replied flatly, passing her father by without even sparing him a glance, “Come, Nasir, let us greet her”, she called. The young Syrian followed her, a bit uncomfortable at her open display of disrespect towards the paterfamilias, but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

In the hall, holding a tightly wrapped scroll closed with the seal of the House of Batiatus, stood Diona: she was pale, dirty and still wore the same ragged clothes she had been given for her execution. When she heard some footsteps approaching, she shivered and bowed her head, “Domina”, she said in a small voice.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Diona”, the Roman woman said, her tone warm and gentle as she stroked the girl’s cheek, “I know what happened to you and why you fled. You have my word that this will never happen again. You are safe in this house”. Diona hesitated and slowly raised her head to look her new domina in the eye, “B-but I fled…”.

“You had good reason to. Nobody will ever hurt you again, this I swear. As my body slave, you will always be by my side, with myself, Kerovas and Nasir to protect you. I trust you remember Nasir?”, Flaminia added and the slave girl nodded. “Y-yes…Greetings, Nasir”. “Greetings, Diona”, the young man replied with a kind smile.

“You can trust him, he is a good man. Anara!”, she then called loudly and a girl of eighteen, with short russet hair and wearing the typical slave collar, came running. “Yes, domina?”. “Please, bring Diona to the bathroom and give her some new fresh clothes. Diona, are you hungry?”. Diona nodded, “Yes, domina”.

“Then, after the bath, you will join me in the kitchen for meal, all right?”. “Yes, domina. Gratitude”, finally a small, very small smile lightened up the girl’s face, “You are kind to me”. “Because you deserve kindness. Now go and enjoy your bath”, Flaminia replied, then she bent slightly and whispered, “Fear not, the man who abused you will pay dearly for pain he caused you”.

Diona gasped in shock at that, “You…You know of it?”. “Of course I know: Gaia told me of how Cossutius requested you for his disgusting pleasures and when I visited the house afterwards, I saw with my own eyes how broken you were. He will pay”. She smiled widely and happy tears welled up in her eyes, “Gratitude”. “For what? I haven’t done anything…Yet”, the Roman woman winked at her and left the room, this time going to the kitchen.

There she helped the cook to make some roasted pork slices and a hearty omelette with fried mushrooms, while Nasir was called by Kerovas in the corridor. “Is is true that we have a new slave here?”, the bodyguard asked. “Yes, she’s Diona, a former slave from the House of Batiatus”, the young Syrian answered. “Ah, the girl. It’s good to know she’s safe: when I saw her on sands, about to be executed, I was tempted to go down there and kill the guards myself”.

“Me too, she has already suffered enough. Nobody should have to endure such abuse, be them slave or Ro…”, he cut himself off and shot a look at the kitchen door, “Eh…”. “Roman? What do you mean?”. “I…Should not tell you…”. Kerovas narrowed his eyes, “Yes, you should. Especially if it concerns my sister”.

The younger man bit his lower lip, uncertain, then confessed, “She was forced to lie with her husband not two hours ago”. “ **What?!?** That fucking old bastard, I will rip his heart out and feed it to him!”, the bodyguard growled, enraged, but Flaminia came out of the kitchen and quickly grabbed him by the arm. “Brother, no!”. “He forced himself on you and he must pay for it!”.

“And pay he will, believe me. But not now, not until I have need of him, not until Quintus has need of him. Please, brother, calm down. Revenge is a dish best served cold after all, no?”, she concluded with a mischievous grin and at length, Kerovas relaxed and smiled back. “That it is. But when the time comes, I ask for privilege to take his life”. “Privilege granted: his neck will be yours to break”, she promised, kissing his cheek fondly, “I love you, Kerovas”. “I love you too, sister”.

“Now come, there’s plenty of food for all of us”. “Gladly”, he followed her and Nasir and took a seat by her side, patiently waiting for the fourth guest to join them. After a while, Diona entered the room and he was taken aback by how radiant she looked now that she was clean and at ease, her petite figure covered by a chaste ankle-length green dress as was custom for all the female slaves in the House of Lutatius.

“Ah, about time! Come, don’t be afraid”, Flaminia rose from her seat, led the girl to sit at her other side and handed her a dish filled with meat and a portion of omelette, “Here you go”, she said, then served the meal to the two men as well before taking some food for herself. The slave girl hesitated, “Gratitude…But…You are domina, you should not lower yourself to serve me”.

The Roman just laughed, “Oh, you will learn soon that I do not care for such distinctions: slave or Roman, it does not matter to me. I have to save appearances before parents and husband, but when it’s only us, you can call me by name”. Diona was dumbfounded, but nodded, “Yes, do…Flaminia”, she said, then gratefully ate her meal, closing her eyes in bliss for a moment: since her capture, she had been kept in a cage and left without food and now even a simple slice of roasted meat was like a taste of heaven to her hungry stomach.

She allowed her new domina to refill her plate twice more, forgetting property and table manners and it was only when she finally put her dish down and stopped, her hunger sated and her stomach full, that she noticed the amused looks on the others’ faces, “Oh! Apologies, I…”. “None needed”, Flaminia gently cut her off, “I understand. And I swear by Mars that you will never go hungry again in your life as long as you are under my protection”.

“Gratitude”. “My pleasure. Now only one thing remains and I offer you my apologies in advance for it, but it’s necessary: you must get a tattoo on your shoulder to mark you as my body slave. It will not take long, the Mark is of simple design”.

Noticing the flash of fear that passed in the girl’s eyes, Kerovas intervened, “You need not be afraid of it: I was tattooed as well in my younger days, to mark me as her satelles and it’s not that bad”, he said, taking off his shirt and turning slightly in his seat to show the slave girl the drawing on his right shoulder: it depicted the letters F and L encircled by a snake which ate its own tail, “See that? It’s not as painful as you may think and it will heal quickly”. Diona bit her lower lip and blushed scarlet as her gaze slowly roamed over his large muscled back, taking in his impressive figure, “I see”, she murmured, bowing her head shyly.

“Are you done eating?”, her domina asked her. “Yes”. “Come, then: the sooner you are marked as my own property, the better”. The young slave followed her into a small room, where a woman well into her fifties was mixing some black powder with water. “Viridia, this is my body slave, Diona. She needs to be tattoed my mark”, the Roman said and the older woman nodded with a smile. “Come here, girl and fear not: pain will not last long”.

Diona sat on a stool in front of the older woman and let the upper part of her dress slip aside to give her better access to the shoulder. Viridia carefully plunged a needle into the ink and proceeded to mark the girl, who grimaced in pain. “Shush, young one, it’s all right, it won’t take long”. After a while, the tattoo was complete and Diona dressed up again, sighing in relief, “I’m glad it’s over”, she admitted.

Flaminia smiled fondly at her, “You did well”, she said, placing a hand on her arm, “Now you are officially under my protection and nobody will ever be allowed to touch you, unless you need healing of course. I suppose you wish to rest now?”. “I…I would like it, yes, domina”. “Then come, I’ll show you your room”. Diona's eyes widened, “I have a room for myself?”. “Well, you’ll have to share with Viridia, but you’ll have a true bed, instead of small cot on the floor. Still better than what you had at your former place, no?”.

“Yes, it is”, she nodded and when she saw the room, with two soft beds, warm blankets and fluffy pillows, she nearly cried of joy again. “The one on the left is yours and in closet you’ll find fresh clothes. Now get some rest and worry not: you’re safe here”, Flaminia stroked her hair and left to finally have a bath, while Diona slipped under the covers and curled up in her new bed, drifting into a peaceful sleep with a happy smile on her lips.


	30. Breaking the chains

The rest of the day passed without further trouble and when Diona woke up from her nap, Kerovas took it upon himself to show her the house and explain her the rules and habits of the owners. “Flaminia does not like spending her time here, though”, he said with a grin, “She goes to visit the House you came from quite frequently and I suspect she will do it even more often now that there is new dominus”.

She nodded, “I remember seeing her at dom…Former dominus’ house nearly every day. And…I remember seeing you”, she added in a whisper, blushing and looking at her brand new comfy sandals. He hesitated, unsure of how to respond to that, then cleared his throat, “Well, I am her satelles, it is my sacred duty to always be at her side and watch over her. I failed her though”, he suddenly said, fists clenching in rage.

“Why do you say so?”. “She was abused and I was not there to save her from that disgusting piece of shit! I should have…”, he trailed off and his eyes widened with surprise as the girl took one of his hands, her face solemn. “She will survive the pain: she is strong and brave. I saw her fighting in ludus, I saw fire in her eyes. Flaminia is strong, not like me”. “You are strong as well, Diona: that you found the courage to live and flee from that place is testament to it”.

“But I was captured…”. “As were many of the gladiators”, he replied without missing a beat, “How do you think they ended up in ludus? They are war prisoners, proud and strong warriors who were captured and sold into slavery. That does not make them weak, only unfortunate”.

She was dumbstruck for a moment, then her lips curved in a soft and shy smile and she nodded, “Gratitude for kind words. You are good man”, she said, then she impulsively stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He froze, stunned and Diona blushed crimson, realizing what she’d just done. “Oh, apologies! I…I just…”, she stammered, then turned on her heels and dashed back to her room, leaving Kerovas in the middle of the corridor with wide eyes and a confused but warm feeling in his chest.

888888888888

At dinner, Flaminia decided to eat in her room under the excuse of feeling unwell, but in truth she did not want to set eyes upon her husband after what he’d done to her that morning. She ate with Kerovas and Nasir, feeling safe and comforted in their presence, but suddenly a thought struck her and she paled, “I will have to sleep with him tonight”, she said, her voice carrying a mixture of fear and disgust, “What can I do? I have no opium left…”.

“I know of an herb that could help”, Nasir said, “It is usually given to men who are tasked to watch over the virgin female slaves before they’re sold, to ensure that they will not, uh…”. “Spoil the goods?”, she completed the sentence and he nodded. “Yes. I still have some of it, sometimes I added it to my former dominus’ food, so that he would leave me alone”, he added, feeling a stab of shame and pain at that memory, “I will go and get it from my room”.

“Gratitude, Nasir”, she smiled warmly at him and he smiled back, standing and going to his room to retrieve the precious small vial. When he came back, she hid the vial into her neckline and her eyes shone with a dangerous light, “If this is not enough, next time it will be poison”, she hissed. Luckily for her (and for Albinius as well) the herb worked flawlessly and he fell into a deep slumber, leaving her free to enjoy a good night’s sleep.

The following morning, she woke up before him and quickly bathed and slipped her best white dress on, then placed herself at the entrance of the house with Nasir, anxiously waiting for the praetor to arrive. Finally, she saw him walking up the road and moved to greet him with a beaming smile, “Good morning, praetor Lavinium!”, she said, “Please, come in”. “Good morning to you as well, Flaminia”, the praetor replied with a polite nod, following her into the house, “I trust your family is well?”.

“Oh, they are more than well, gratitude. Before we begin usual census, there is matter I wish to settle with you: this is Nasir, a house slave of mine and I wish to grant him freedom and citizenship”. “You do?”, Lavinium looked at the young Syrian for a moment, “Ah, a Syrian, like champion who was granted freedom and citizenship yesterday. It seems to be favorable month for Syrians, eh?”, he joked kindly.

Nasir nodded, looking at Flaminia with gratitude and affection, “I am blessed by the Gods, for they sent me to such generous and kind-hearted domina”. “That you are, young one, that you are. So, let us being then”, the older man said, taking out of his satchel the parchment for the census and spreading it open on the nearest table.

Flaminia smiled and took a blank piece of parchment, “I, Flaminia of House of Lutatius, hereby renounce the right of property on this man and declare him a free citizen of the Roman Republic, with the name of Flaminius Flaminii libertus Nasir”, she said in a solemn tone, writing the words as she spoke them, then let some drops of hot wax fall on the deed.

“And I accept this declaration and make it official in the eyes of the Republic”, the praetor agreed, adding Nasir’s new name to the list of citizens, then he pressed his signet ring on the wax, “Congratulations, good Nasir: from this moment on, you are a citizen of the Roman Republic to all intents and purposes”. The younger man beamed, tears of joy shining in his dark eyes, “Gratitude, praetor. And you bear my gratitude as well, dom…Flaminia”, he corrected himself.

“You’re most welcome”, she replied, placing a hand on his arm for a brief moment, “And now, good praetor, I beg for your forgiveness, but I must take my leave, for I have business to take care of. Anara will lead you to the rest of my family”, she added, pointing to the approaching house slave. “Of course, I would never keep you from business. May the Gods always show favor to you both, young ones”.

“And to you as well, praetor”, she bowed her head and took Nasir’s hand, dragging him along as she quickly moved to a small side room. “Where are we going?”, the Syrian asked, confused. “You need proper clothing now that you’re Roman, so I have bought new toga for you”, she explained, pointing at the bed on which lay a luxurious green toga with golden trimmings made of fine silk, “Do you like it?”.

His mouth fell open, “I…It’s beautiful!”, he breathed, taking it up and admiring every detail with a mixture of disbelief and wonder, “Is it for me? Really?”. “Yes, it’s yours”, she confirmed, an amused smile curving her lips as she saw the look on his face, he was like a happy child admiring a new toy. “I don’t know what to say”. “No words are needed. Put it on and join me at the entrance, I intend to visit your brother”.

“Do you want to tell him…”, he hesitated and she bit her lower lip. “I do not know. What if he cannot bear to look at me because of it? I feel so dirty…”, her voice broke and she swallowed her tears and he slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You are blameless in this matter”, he soothed her, “There was nothing you could do”.

“I could have fought him…”. “And then what? Kill him? And how would you explain his blood on your hands? No, that was only possible outcome and you know it”. “Yes, I know it. But knowledge does not quench my shame and anger”. “Time heals all wounds. Let us go and fear not, he will understand”.


	31. Good news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes a new chapter for you, dearest readers! I know the world is crazy at the moment, I pray that you all stay safe and healthy always

When they arrived at the House of Batiatus, Melitta led them to the dominus’ small office. Quintus was sat at his desk and Ashur stood at his side, both of them lost in conversation, but they looked up when they heard the footsteps and the aedilis smiled at seeing the young woman.

“Flaminia dearest, I was just thinking of you!”, he exclaimed cheerfully, tapping a finger on the parchment in front of him, “You were right about Ashur, you know? We were checking the last incomes and expenses and he has just explained me how to save much coin with only minor adjustments”, he added, giving the newly appointed lanista a friendly pat on the back.

“It warms heart to hear it”, Flaminia replied, her eyes softening as she looked Ashur over and admired the elegant dark red toga and equally dark red trousers he wore, “I come bringing good news: with the contribution of good praetor Lavinium, this morning Nasir has officially become free Roman citizen!”.

Ashur blinked, stunned, then his lips curved in a joyful smile and he hugged the younger man, “Congratulations, little brother!”. Nasir hugged him back, beaming, “Gratitude. Only problem is that, now that I am free, I need to find myself a job”, he said, only half-joking. His brother chuckled, “You’re lucky, then, for I already have solution to this problem: now that I am lanista, I have need of capable and trusted assistant to help me with accounts. Are you interested in job?”. “Of course I am!”, Nasir nodded enthusiastically.

Batiatus smiled, “Seems like this House will be led by two brothers. This is good omen for ludus, where all gladiators are brothers by the Mark”. “You know that House of Batiatus bears Mars’ blessing”, Flaminia intervened, “This is but confirmation of his benevolence towards ludus and those who are bound to it”. “You speak truth, dearest, as always”, he agreed and frowned when Melitta entered the study, “What is it?”. “Apologies, dominus, but doctore requested to have words with you”. “Have him come here, then”.

She bowed and came back after a while with Oenomaus, who bowed his head, “Dominii, domina”, he greeted the Romans, looking slightly nervous. “Doctore”, Batiatus said, “What is cause for such dark face? What troubles mind?”. “I have heard that, now that you have become aedilis, you will have to move to Rome for long periods of time”. “Yes”. “I…Suppose Melitta will have to follow, her being domina’s body slave”. “Yes…Ah, I see now: you wonder what will happen to weekly visits while we are away”. “Yes, dominus”.

Flaminia decided to speak up, seeing the pain in Oenomaus’ dark eyes, “I think that if you, Quintus, were to separate doctore from his wife for so long, it may affect not only his mood, but his performance as well: you know as well as I do that heavy heart clouds mind”. Quintus mulled over it for a moment, “What do you suggest, then? Lucretia cannot be without body slave”.

“Oh, I would never suggest something so absurd! But she could make Naevia her new body slave and give Melitta role of house slave, so that she will be allowed to stay here and Lucretia will still have someone to take care of her needs”, she said, earning herself a grateful glance from doctore. “Naevia?”. “Why not? She has helped Melitta in her duties for long time now, she certainly knows what to do”.

Batiatus pursed his lips, then shrugged, “You may be right, but I want to hear Lucretia’ opinion on matter”. “Of course, where is she?”. “Having a bath”. “Good, I will go see her then”, she didn’t wait for a reply and quickly moved down the corridor, until she reached the bathroom and smiled at seeing her friend lazily lounging in the pool, “Good morning, Lucretia”. “Flaminia, well met! Come, join me”, the matron beamed, stretching her hand towards the younger woman.

“I…Oh, why not after all?”, Flaminia undressed and slipped inside the pool, a sigh of delight escaping her lips as she felt the warmth of the water surrounding her body, “Ah, this is just perfect temperature for me”. “Isn’t it delicious?”. “Indeed”, she agreed, sitting down at her friend’s side and leaning her back against the wall, “I have small proposal for you”. Lucretia’s eyebrows rose with curiosity, “Speak words, then”.

“I suggest you give Naevia role of your new body slave and make Melitta simple house slave”. She frowned, “Why would I do that?”. “As you know, Melitta is Oenomaus’ wife and if you leave for Rome and bring her with you, you will rip her from arms of husband, as Titus tried to do with you and Quintus“, she added, knowing full well how deeply that name would affect her friend. “That would be cruel”, Lucretia mused, “But she is slave, it’s different”.

“No, Lucretia, it’s not: slaves or free citizens, we all feel love and pain the same way. Also, if you inflict such suffering to them, this could cause them to resent you and compromise their loyalty towards your House. But if you allow her to stay and bring Naevia in her stead, not only Melitta and Oenomaus will have debt of gratitude towards you, but it will also strengthen Naevia’s sense of loyalty towards this House, as she will see it as great honor to be elevated to rank of body slave”.

The matron sat in stunned silence for a moment, then chuckled, “Always the schemer, are you? Always thinking of how you can use other people’s desires and ambitions to our advantage”. “You are my family”, Flaminia replied with a warm smile, stroking her hair, “There is nothing I would not do to help you”. “I know”, Lucretia hugged her tightly, moved, “If only you were my daughter…And if only I could give Quintus heir he craves”, she added with a sad sigh.

“There is priestess of Juno in Rome who could help, I could arrange meeting for you if you want”. “Yes, please”. “Then I will do it first thing this afternoon”. “Gratitude”. “My pleasure”, Flaminia stood and dried herself with a soft towel, then slipped her dress back on, “Now I’d better go back to men, it is not wise to leave them unattended”, she joked and Lucretia laughed. “Sad but true”, she agreed, standing, “I’m coming too, I want to solve this matter as soon as possible”, she added, drying herself and wearing a beautiful blue dress.

The two women walked back to the study and when Lucretia announced her decision, Melitta, Oenomaus and Naevia were overjoyed by the news and their eyes shone with gratitude, just as Flaminia had predicted.

As Melitta and her husband left to ‘celebrate’, the young Roman woman noticed Ashur’s gaze fixed on herself with a mixture of sadness, pain and anger and she instinctively knew that he had been informed of her shame. She glared at Nasir, who shrugged apologetically, not quite meeting her furious gaze.

She was about to speak, when a male house slave entered the office. “Apologies, dominus, senator Albinius is here and requests audience”, the boy said, addressing Batiatus. “Of course”, Quintus nodded and quickly moved to the main room, where he found the senator waiting for him. “Ah, good Batiatus, here you are”. “Senator Albinius, good morning. To what do I owe pleasure of your visit?”.

“I have just received message from Rome, the Senate requires my presence and now that you have political position, your presence is required as well. Pack your things, we’re leaving this afternoon. Of course, since you don’t have house in Rome yet, you will be my guest until you have found suitable accommodation of your own”, he added. “It is very generous of you, gratitude”.

“You are close friend of my wife and I know how much she cares for your wellbeing. I would never disappoint her. And speaking of my wife, she is here, isn’t she?”. “She is in my study, come”, Quintus led the older man to the office and when they entered, Ashur’s eyes flashed with hatred, but he was quick to hide his feelings behind a fake smile.

Albinius did not notice it though, he only had eyes for his consort, “Flaminia, my love! I was getting worried, seeing that you were not home anymore”. She forced herself to smile, “Apologies, I had important matter to discuss with Quintus and Lucretia. Did you come here only in search of me?”. “Also that, yes, but mostly because I had to inform Batiatus that we must leave for Rome this afternoon: Senate needs us, alas. I do not wish to be ripped from your embrace, yet duty demands me to go”.

“It is unfortunate, but it warms heart to know that our storied Republic is led by men so capable and worthy”, Flaminia said, trying not to sound too happy at the prospect of him leaving, “I will wait for your return, dear husband”. “It saddens me to say that your parents will come along too, they need to discuss arrangement about equipment for Gaius’ soldiers”.

“Great opportunity for all involved”, she preened like a peacock, “Our weapons are the best in all Capua, quite likely the best in all Republic: this deal will prove beneficial both to our business and to the army”. “Will you be all right, all alone in Capua?”, the senator asked, a note of honest concern in his voice.

The young woman nodded, “Fear not, I will be safe: I have Kerovas to protect me after all and while I am here, I will take care of our business in Capua as I’ve always done. Everything will be fine”, she assured him, her heart beating faster at the thought that, with him out of her hair, she would be free to meet with Ashur whenever she pleased and she sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mars for that gift: now there was no doubt at all in her mind that the War God was indeed on her side.


	32. A gift from the Gods

It had been a month since Flaminia’s parents and husband had left for Rome along with Quintus and Lucretia and the young woman had taken full advantage of that freedom to spend as much time as possible with Ashur: she had basically moved into the former House of Batiatus, now House of Ashur and she only left its walls to keep an eye of her family business, which was flourishing thanks to the fact that she had basically left it in Kerovas’ capable hands and to the deal that her father had struck with the Senate.

The training went on better than ever as well: Oenomaus was happy since he and Melitta were now allowed to share a room in the villa, the new and improved life conditions in the ludus had given the gladiators more energy so now they fought in the arena with renewed strength and determination and that led to more numerous and spectacular victories, which in turn led to more people requiring the gladiators from the House of Ashur for their games and this ultimately led to more coin filling the lanista’s purse.

Of course, Flaminia had not forgotten the help that Solonius had given to her and Batiatus in getting rid of Tullius months before, nor the friendship that bound him to Quintus, so she made sure that good Solonius would have a good position in all the games as well, though she was careful not to have his men fight against Ashur’s titans as not to humiliate her old friend.

“Our fortunes rise with each new day like the Sun”, Ashur commented happily one morning as he and Flaminia stood on the balcony, watching the gladiators come out of their cells to begin their daily routine. “Your wise and capable lead is reason why this house is soaring to the Heavens, my love”, she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder as he slipped an arm around her waist.

“I would have never had such opportunity without your intervention, my goddess”, he said, locking his lips with hers in a long, tender and passionate kiss, “I do not know what I did to be blessed with your presence in my life, yet I am glad I did it”. “So am I”, she stroked his face and lost herself in his eyes, “You are gift from the Gods”, she moved to kiss him again, but suddenly turned the other way and bent in two, retching violently.

“Flaminia! What is wrong?”, Ashur asked, worried and scared, bending at her side. “I…I do not know”, she panted, “I feel weak…My stomach…”, she trailed off and retched again. “Melitta, bring medicus here, NOW!”, the Syrian barked as he gently lifted the woman he loved more than his own soul in his arms.

Flaminia was quickly put to bed and given plenty of fresh water to wash away the bitter taste in her mouth and the medicus checked her conditions, frowning in thought. “Did something unusual happen these last days, domina?”. “No, I don’t think so. Apart from…”, she hesitated, blushing. “Apart from?”. “Well…My monthly bleeding has stopped”.

The old man brightened at that, “Ah, answer is obvious, then: you are with child”, he said merrily. “I…I am…”, she stammered, shocked, then her lips curved in a joyful smile as she met Ashur’s eyes, “I am with child!”. Ashur beamed and sent everyone else out of the room, then sat on the side of the bed and took her hand in his, kissing her fingers, “We will become parents! I could not have asked for greater gift than this”.

“We are blessed, beloved. Yet…You understand that I am married: if truth about this comes out, we will lose everything, maybe even life”. He scowled, “What are you saying?”. “I need husband to recognize child as his own, so that our child will inherit his fortune and status after old bastard’s death. I do not like thought of him acting as father for our own blood, but…”. “But this is only way to keep our baby safe”, Ashur sighed resignedly, “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand”.

She smiled, a dangerous predatory smile, “Fear not, my love, he will not be problem for long: I only need him to officially claim our offspring as his own and then…He will be sent to afterlife”. He chuckled, “My beautiful dangerous goddess”, he purred, holding her close, “I will do my part, just say what you need me to do”.

“I already know someone who can take care of it, worry not. All I need you to do is to act normal, so that nobody will suspect truth”, she snuggled against his chest with a contented sigh, “We have child of our own, can you believe it? It is already here, growing in my womb…Mars really gave me all I desired and more”. Ashur placed a gentle hand on her belly, a dreamy look on his face, “I will forever be devoted to Mars”, he promised, caressing her through the soft fabric, “I have never placed much faith in gods before, but now…I cannot deny that we are indeed blessed”.

“Apologies”, Kerovas poked his head into the room, beaming, “I was informed that there will be addition to family and I wanted to be first to congratulate you”. Flaminia chuckled and stretched a hand towards him, “Maybe **I** should congratulate **you** , after all you’re officially uncle now!”, she joked and he laughed and took her hand in his. “Greatest honor I could ask for”.

“I agree”, Nasir spoke up, entering the room as well with a smile so wide and bright it could have put the Sun to shame, “About time you made me uncle, brother, I was starting to lose hope!”, he added with a wink. “So was I”, his brother admitted, “Since my capture, I stopped hoping for anything more than survival, I saw nothing but pain and struggle in my future…And then a goddess came into my life and changed everything”, he kissed Flaminia’s temple, then her cheek and his lips were about to move down to her neck when Kerovas cleared his throat.

“So, have you chosen name for child?”, the bodyguard asked. “Not yet and I fear that senator Albinius will be one to decide”, Ashur replied with a grimace, “I wish he were already dead!”. “That makes two of us”, the young woman commented, “But husband will probably allow me to choose name”. Nasir grinned, “If I may give suggestion, I think Nasir would be perfect name for your offspring”, he joked.

“It’s good name, I agree, but I must choose something that sounds Roman”, she bit her lower lip, lost in deep thought for a long while, “What do you think of Ascanius?”, she asked at length. “I like it”, Ashur smiled, “It is name from Roman legends, is it not? Ascanius was Aeneas’ son”. She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and admiration, “Yes! You know our legends?”.

He shrugged, “I learned many things when I was still slave in corn field: my former dominus’ children had teacher who held lessons in courtyard during summer and I was curious, so I eavesdropped as often as I could. Knowledge is precious treasure in its own right and it can also be powerful tool if one knows how to wield it”. She stroked his cheek tenderly, her gaze soft and full of love and pride, “Oh, beloved…You really have mind sharper than any blade”, she purred, snuggling even closer to him and kissing his jawline and then his neck and he couldn’t suppress a moan.

Taking that as their cue, Kerovas and Nasir left the room and locked the door, so that nobody could disturb the two lovers, now also parents of an unborn child. Neither Flaminia nor Asur noticed their disappearance and truth be told, they didn’t even care: all that mattered was the happiness filling their hearts and the desire burning in their veins.


	33. Ascanius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new life begins in the House of Ashur

Whimpers of pain broke the relative quiet of the house, the soft sounds carrying to the ears of the men who waited patiently in the adjacent room, their faces showing different levels of anxiety and worry. “Will she be all right?”, Ashur asked for the umpteenth time, turning towards Kerovas who sat at his left. “I’m sure she will”, the bodyguard answered, trying and failing miserably to sound confident and relaxed, “My little sister is a strong woman, besides she has capable medicus and Diona to assist her”.

“I know, I know”, the dominus sighed, passing his hands on his face, “It’s just that I can’t stand thought of her being in such pain…It’s all my fault”. Nasir, who sat at his right, shook his head, “I would not call it fault, but merit: she is giving life to child, taking part in greatest of miracles. Besides, considering that she would have had to face this at some point anyway, better by your hand than by Albinius’, don’t you think?”. “Indeed”, Ashur nodded, “Hopefully he won’t suspect anything. But if he tries to hurt even single hair on her or our child’s head, I swear to all the gods he will regret being born”, he said, his voice coming out as a low menacing growl.

Right on cue, a house slave came to inform him of senator Albinius’ and Flaminia’s parents’ arrival and he was forced to smooth his face in a mask of politeness despite the black hatred he felt. “Senator Albinius, good Janus, domina Terentia, it is good that you made it in time”, he greeted the newcomers, bowing his head with a smile as fake as a three-euros-coin, “Please, have a seat”. The senator didn’t return the greeting, “Where is my wife? How is she?”, he asked instead, honest concern filling his voice as his eyes darted around.

“She is in adjacent room, with medicus and Diona”. “I’m going to her”, he said, but Kerovas stood and raised a hand to stop him. “Please, dominus, domina requested specifically that no men should be allowed inside the room until she has given birth”, he said politely, “She does not wish to be seen in pain as she struggles to give life to your heir”. The old man’s eyes blazed for a moment with anger and annoyance, but at length he sighed, “I see”. Janus chuckled, “Proud and stubborn as always, that’s my daughter!”, he commented, amused, as he and his wife went to sit on a triclinium, “I am pleased that we made it in time to see grandchild”.

Terentia bit her lower lip, wringing her hands nervously, “She forbade men to enter, but I am woman and mother. Am I allowed to get in?”, she asked Kerovas, a pleading look on her face. The bodyguard smiled, “I believe she will be pleased to have you there, domina”. She beamed at his answer and wasted no time in hurrying to her daughter’s side. In the large bedroom, Flaminia lay on the bed with her legs spread, her face covered with sweat and her cheeks red with the effort as she pushed again, a broken whimper escaping her lips: even in such pain, she refused to scream, biting her tongue every time she felt on the verge of doing so.

“Daughter!”, the matron stroked her forehead tenderly, “Daughter, I’m here”. “Mother?”, the young woman blinked, surprised, “I thought…”, she trailed off as another wave of pain washed over her. “Push, domina, just another little push!”, medicus encouraged her, “I can see the head, just a final effort!”. She gritted her teeth and pushed with what little strength she had left and felt as though her body was ripping in half, but after a moment, she heard a high-pitched sound and her eyes widened, “Is it…?”.

Diona beamed at her, slowly raising her hands and showing her domina a small baby covered in blood, “It’s a boy, domina”. Flaminia gulped, her eyes filling with tears of joy as she extended her arms and the slave obediently passed her the baby, her child, her precious son, “Ascanius”, she breathed and her face lightened up in a way nobody had ever seen before. “Oh, daughter, he’s beautiful”, Terentia said, admiring her grandson with obvious happiness, “I’m so proud of you”.

The little boy was small, with no hair at all, a round face, big dark eyes full of curiosity, a delicate nose and a perfect little mouth reminding of a rose-bud, his little fingers were slender and his skin was halfway between her creamy hue and Ashur’s olive complexion.

“Oh, you wonderful creature, you”, his mother cooed, gently stroking his cheek, it was as soft and smooth as the finest silk, “Welcome to this world, my sweet treasure, my little miracle, my joy”, she kissed his forehead without a single care to the blood covering it and the baby let out a happy squeal. “Domina, I need to clean him”, Diona said apologetically and as she moved to take him, Flaminia instinctively hugged him closer to her chest and snarled at her like an enraged wolf, causing the girl to recoil with a shocked look on her face.

The domina realized her mistake and let out a forced chuckle, “Ah, apologies. I guess I’m too tired to think straight”, she offered, reluctantly allowing the slave to take her son to a nearby table, where he was carefully cleaned with warm water and a soft cloth. In the meantime, medicus took care to cut the umbilical cord and used a red-hot piece of iron to cauterize it.

“Jupiter’s cock!”, Flaminia cursed, forcing herself to keep her voice level under control as she did not want to show any more weakness than she already had: she knew that she was among people who could be trusted, but it was an old habit of hers and it came as natural to her as breathing by now.

Her eyes never left the table where her baby was and she eagerly stretched her arms once again as soon as he was clean and comfortably wrapped in a soft blanket, hugging him close and moving slightly away from her mother and the slave as if to keep them as far from her child as possible without being rude, “Hey there, miss me?”, she joked, caressing his head with infinite tenderness. Ascanius opened his mouth and whined and she somehow understood at once. “Hungry, are you? Here you go, my heart”, she bared her chest and the baby latched onto her left breast like a ravenous puppy.

There was a soft knock and then Kerovas poked his head into the room, “Apologies, but new father is eager to finally set eyes on son”, he said and his own eyes lightened up when they fell on the baby, “By the Gods…”. She smiled at him and gestured for him to approach, “Come closer and meet Ascanius”. He didn’t need to be told twice and walked up to the bed, fascinated, “He is perfect, domina”, he said sincerely, then addressed the baby, “Welcome to this world, little dominus”.

“Tell them they can come in, if they want to”, she told her brother and he obediently gave the message to the other men. A moment later, Albinius entered the room, “Where is my heir? Oh…”, his mouth fell open and he approached the bed with a look of reverence on his face, “A male. You gave me a son!”, he exclaimed, overjoyed.

“This is Ascanius, dear husband”, she informed him, forcing herself to smile back. “Ascanius? Perfect name for our child, name of legendary hero! You chose well, my wife”, he commented, then as was tradition, he took off the blanket from the child, examined him closely and finding him flawless, he lifted the baby in his arms for all to see, “This is my son: Ascanius Lucius Albinius!”.

Ashur felt his blood boil with rage at that statement, but he knew full well that those words would keep his son safe and ensure him a generous legacy, not to mention the influence he would have as the son of a senator. Janus smiled widely, but did not move to take the child at all, preferring to keep his distance, “He will grow and become fine man, of this I have no doubt”. “He will become great man like his father”, Flaminia said with a tender, genuine smile, meeting Ashur’s eyes for a moment and he gave her a subtle nod as his eyes softened, “Can I have him back now?”, she then asked, her voice light but with a steely undertone as she sat up and moved to stand.

“Of course, but lie down, domina”, medicus hurriedly said, gently taking her by the shoulder and pushing her down, “You need rest”. “I need my child!”, she snapped, lips curling with anger, “Give him to me NOW!”. Albinius wrapped the baby once more in the blanket and handed him to the mother, “Here he is, my wife, no need to raise voice”. “Apologies”, she replied, barely sparing him a glance as she hugged her son. Terentia noticed the child rubbing his eyes with his small fists and smiled, “Seems like Ascanius needs rest as well: coming into this world is tiring job after all”, she joked, “Let us leave them alone”.

“Wait”, Flaminia intervened, “Good Ashur, is it fine by you if I stay the night? I do not wish to impose more than I already have…”, she had to say it, but of course it was only to keep up appearances. “Nonsense, Flaminia, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you need. And so is your child”, he added with a fond smile, moving closer to the bed and looking at the baby, his son, his most precious treasure, with love and pride.

The child looked at him with curiosity at first, then his little face lightened up and he squealed joyfully, stretching an arm towards his father and his mother chuckled. “He appreciates your generosity”, she said fondly, “As do I”. “My pleasure”, Ashur replied, then he reluctantly bowed his head and left the room with the others.

Albinius gave him a grateful smile, “You are kind man, good Ashur and you bear my gratitude for all you have done for my wife and my heir”, he said, blissfully unaware of the wave of anger that his use of the word ‘my’ sparked in the lanista, “It will be our pleasure to have you for dinner at our house tomorrow evening as sign of appreciation for support”. “You honor me, senator Albinius”, Ashur forced himself to smile and bow his head, “I gladly accept offer”. “Good. See you tomorrow then”, the older man said, turning on his heels to leave with his in-laws in tow.

As soon as they were gone, the Syrian hurried back to his beloved’s side, only to find both her and their baby fast asleep and he couldn’t help a soft chuckle escaping his lips at that scene: Flaminia held the child in her arms, her upper body curled slightly as though to shield him from the dangers of the world and Ascanius’s perfect little hands gripped the fabric of her dress tightly.

“You two are greatest blessing Gods could bestow upon me”, Ashur murmured, sitting on the bed next to the young woman and slipping his arms around her and their son with utmost care to avoid waking them up. He admired them for a long moment, his heart swelling with happiness, love, pride and wonder and as he thought to himself once again how lucky he was, he drifted off into a peaceful sleep with his family held safely in his arms.


	34. The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: And here comes the final chapter, my dearest readers! I thank you with all my heart for following this fanfic to the end and I wish you all a Merry Christmas! ^-^  
> Special mention goes:  
> to Deirana for leaving me comments and kudos and bookmarking the story;  
> to Nemara14 and Frankcastle0503 for leaving me comments and kudos;  
> to Roza3323 for leaving me kudos and bookmarking the story;  
> to CalvinHGatsby, Deadpool21 and all the guests for leaving me kudos;  
> and to DracoWiccaAcolyte and ms607 for bookmarking the story!

Flaminia woke in Ashur’s arms, surrounded by his comforting warmth and the feeling of his strong body next to her, a tender smile curving her lips as she woke up and met his gaze, “Good morning, beloved”. “Good morning, my goddess”, he purred, kissing her deeply, then he reached out to stroke his son’s head with utmost gentleness, “And good morning to you too, my little miracle”. The baby stirred and opened his brown eyes, squealing happily at the sight of his dad, but after a moment whined and opened his mouth wide.

“He’s hungry”, the young woman chuckled and bared her chest to feed her child, who immediately started sating his hunger. “He will grow up to become a strong man”. “Kerovas will train him, like he did me”, she said in a tone that didn’t let room for argument, “I want our child to become a fighter. He must never know what it feels like to be helpless and humiliated…”, her eyes filled with tears and her lover hugged her more tightly. “That bastard will pay for what he did to you”, he promised, kissing her hair, “I will kill him myself”.

“No, love, there is no need for this: I already have everything planned. Family doesn’t know, but I have connections in Rome, trusted people who are willing to do anything for me, even taking life of senator”. His eyebrows rose with surprise, “How is this possible? I seem to recall that you’ve never spent much time in Rome”.

Her lips curved in a dangerous smile, “I do not need to be there to have hands and eyes at my disposal: during the years, I have freed many a slave from my house and some of them now live in Rome, but they have not forgotten their debt. Not to mention Albinius has many enemies…”. “And you can pin his death on one of them and come out of it with hands clean”, he smiled too, leaning his head on top of hers, “Cunning and dangerous as always, my goddess”.

“Remember when we first met and you said I was quick as serpent? I’m also just as poisonous as one”, she said with a mischievous grin, placing a kiss on his jawline and another on his neck and he let out a soft moan. “Flaminia…”. “I have to go now, beloved”, she slipped out of bed with obvious reluctance, “Albinius will no doubt expect me to have breakfast with him and parents”

The lanista grimaced as he stood, “Hour of his death will not come soon enough”, he growled, “I would gut him like pig for taking you both away from me”. “It’s only for a few hours”, she reassured him, then a thought occurred to her, “Would you like to hold our son?”. Ashur beamed at that and nodded eagerly and when he had the child in his arms, he felt that everything in the world was perfect, “Hello, my precious son”, he murmured, stroking the baby’s face tenderly.

Ascanius squealed and his big dark eyes, which were a near exact replica of his father’s, lightened up with pure joy as he snuggled against the man’s chest. “He loves you already”, the young woman said, “I think he recognizes your voice from when you spoke to him while he was still in my womb”. “He is perfect and I am luckiest man alive to have you both in my life”, a single tear of happiness trailed down Ashur’s face as he kissed his son’s forehead.

Flaminia felt her heart melt at that scene and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mars for all that the war god had granted her so far, for she was certain that his blessing was upon herself and her loved ones and with him by their side, nobody could ever stand in their way. After a long moment, she touched her beloved’s arm, “We need to go now, my love”, she told him, even if she loathed speaking those words.

He sighed and retuned the baby to her arms with one last caress, “I know. I will see you tonight, at least”. “Oh, you will still see us every day, as soon as husband and parents are back to Rome, even if I have to tie them up, toss them in wooden box and send them there as good to sell”, she joked and he laughed. “I have no doubt that you would, my goddess. See you tonight”.

“Tonight, my heart”, she smiled and turned to leave, but Ascanius whined loudly and stretched a small arm towards his father, as he didn’t want to go, “Easy, my sweet son, separation will only last a few hours”, she soothed the baby, who quieted but pouted nonetheless and she chuckled, “Strong-willed like his father”. Ashur arched an eyebrow, “And here I would have said he’s as stubborn as his mother”, he replied, dark eyes sparkling with mischief and she blushed slightly, chuckling under her breath. “Oh, shush”.

oxoxoxoxoxo

After a delicious breakfast and a hot bath, Flaminia moved to go to her room, but her husband stopped her with a big smile. “Can I hold my son?”, he asked. “Of course”, she said, hating every word and allowed Albinius to take him from her arms, barely suppressing the urge to wrap her scarf around the old man’s throat and choke him with it like she had done with that prostitute so long ago.

The senator was blissfully unaware of her hatred and gently rocked the child, pride and genuine affection shining in his blue eyes, “He’s perfect, my love”, he said, “I have longed for a son since my first marriage, but Cornelia gave me daughter…I love Ilithyia, of course, but…She is not heir I wished for. Especially after she married Gaius”, he added, face twisting with a mixture of contempt and disgust.

Flaminia had noticed the hostility between Albinius and Glaber the day of her marriage and she had also taken notice of how ambitious and ruthless the younger man was: not that he let it show openly, but his eyes were the color of a frozen lake and just as cold and being one herself, she knew a predator and a murderer when she saw one. Glaber could come in useful to get rid of the old man, after all he wanted Albinius gone as much as she did, maybe even more, but she’d have to play her cards carefully, to make sure that bitch Ilithyia would not get in the way.

But all in due time: for now, she had to get rid of him and of her parents in a non-lethal way, so she asked casually, “How long will you stay in Capua, dear husband?”. “Oh, not long enough, alas: we will have to leave tomorrow at dawn. I took the time to be here for birth of my son, but duty calls: Senate needs me and your father has struck new business deals in Rome, so he cannot leave for too long either”, he answered, voice heavy with regret.

She pouted with fake sadness and disappointment, “So soon? I had hoped…”, she sighed and shook her head, “Ah, forgive me, I know you have duty to our esteemed Republic. I just miss you…And I miss Quintus and Lucretia as well”, she added and this time she was telling the truth. “They would have happily joined us, but with Lucretia’s pregnancy, they were worried such long journey could affect her health and that of child”.

“I am aware”, she smiled softly at the thought of her friends finally having conceived the child they had craved for years now, “Mars be blessed for granting them heir”. Albinius chuckled, “Actually, she went to see priestess of Juno you wrote to, so maybe you should send gratitude to the goddess”, he pointed out. “I will, rest assured”, the young woman agreed, “But I will make offering to the war god as well: after all, he is patron of gladiators and warriors, whom our fortune depends on”.

“Ah, yes, gladiators”, he pursed his lips, “You do good job with patronage, as talk of gladiators from the House of Ashur has reached even some ears in Rome, but I cannot say I like thought of you having to deal with someone of such inferior status as lanista and a libertinus at that! At least good Batiatus was Roman citizen and had never been slave in his life”.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she shook her head with a sweet smile, “Dear husband, sometimes we have to consort with people we would rather avoid for sake of greater good”, she replied, omitting to tell him that, to her, _he_ was the one she’d rather avoid at all costs and was forced to put up with. The senator grinned, “Aaaah, now I see I made right choice in taking you as wife! Not only you possess beauty to rival Venus herself, but you have sharp mind and diplomatic skills worthy of seasoned politician!”, he complimented her, meaning every word.

“Oh, you humble me, dear husband”, she gave him a fake shy glance, then cleared her throat and stretched her arms, “Ascanius needs rest now. May I have him back?”. “Of course”, he returned the sleepy baby to her and couldn’t help chuckling as he noticed the way she hugged him to her chest, “As protective of your child as she-wolf with her cub”.

“Mothers are always protective of their blood”, she replied, “See you at lunch, dearest”, she bowed her head and went to her room, where she fed Ascanius once more, bathed him, changed his swaddling clothes, put clean clothes on him and lulled him to sleep singing a soft melody under her breath.

The rest of her day passed quickly and was entirely devoted to her child, with only a brief interruption for lunch and one from Kerovas and Nasir who took turns in holding the baby in their arms and watch over him as she napped on the bed: caring for a newborn was more of a handful that she had anticipated and she found that she needed to rest quite often to regain her strength.

But even if it tired her body, she loved every second of it and she could think of nothing worthier of her time and effort…Well, _nearly_ nothing, she corrected herself with a small grin and her cheeks warmed at the thought of Ashur and his hands roaming over her as they made love. She couldn’t wait for the next day to come.

oxoxoxoxoxo

The next morning finally came and she watched with carefully concealed glee as her husband and parents climbed on the carriage that would bring them back to Rome, “I will miss you”, she lied, as she stood in front of her home with Ascanius safely held in her arms, “Bring fondest regards to Quintus and Lucretia, will you?”. “We will, daughter”, her father nodded, closing the door as he sat on the bench, “Will you be fine?”.

“Father, there is no place in the whole Republic where I could be safer than here: Capua is my home, I have good, trusted friends here, everyone knows our family and I have Kerovas by my…Our side”, she amended, looking at her child with a tender smile. Her bodyguard nodded and stood straighter, “I will protect domina and little dominus at all costs, as always”.

“I know”, Janus smiled at him, his gaze softening a little as he regarded his son, “And knowing that you are at their side, watching over them, quiets my fears. I could not wish for more capable man to protect my daughter and grandson: I know you will take good care of them”. “I will, dominus”, the young man promised: he would not let anything bad happen to his sister and nephew, even if he had to fight the Gods themselves.

The carriage left and Flaminia waited a couple of hours, just to make sure it would be well out of Capua, then she immediately took the road to the ludus and when she got there, she found Ashur waiting for her in the main room with a beaming smile. “Are they gone?”, he asked. “Well out of our hair”, she confirmed, snuggling into his arms with a contented sigh, “We are free to be together now”.

Ascanius let out a joyous sound and his father laughed. “Hello, my miracle, I’ve missed you dearly”, he cooed, gently taking the baby up and holding him to his chest, placing a kiss on his forehead. “He missed you too, he was restless all day yesterday when we left and he only calmed down when you joined us for dinner”, she said, shaking her head fondly, “He really does not want to be parted from you…Just like me”, she added in a purr, stroking the man’s back. “Maybe we can make up for the lost night?”, the lanista proposed and she nodded eagerly. “I would love to”.

He led her to the bedroom and placed his son into the cradle he had bought five months ago in secret: it was a luxurious cradle made of the strongest wood, filled with fluffy small pillows and a soft blanket and a wooden horse lay on the mattress. The child immediately noticed the toy and wasted no time in grabbing it with a happy squeal, then he busied himself with studying it, big brown eyes full of curiosity and wonder as he turned it over in his small hands.

Flaminia admired her son and her heart soared, “He is so smart already…He really is like you, my love”. “Funny, I was thinking the same of you”, Ashur murmured, slipping his arms around her waist and hugging her from behind, leaning his chin on her shoulder, “Gratitude, my goddess”. “For what?”. “For this: him, us, this house, the ludus, my freedom, my brother…You gave me everything my heart could have ever desired and more”. “You did the same for me”, she turned in his arms and kissed him deeply, pouring all her love into the kiss, “I need you, Ashur”.

He smirked, “Do you?”. “Yes”. “Hmmm. Then I suppose I will have to indulge you”, he took her hands in his and led her to the bed, where they lay side by side and began undressing each other. They spent the day together and all days after that, days of perfect happiness filled with satisfactions and triumphs. Until one day, Glaber was sent to the land of Thrace…And a new chapter of their lives began.

But this, as they say, is another story.

THE END


End file.
